


You're In Over Your Head Now, Kid

by GrandDukeForever



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Actors, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Celebrities, Cliche, Comedy, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Romance, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Headcanon, Humor, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Name Changes, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tropes, Unresolved Romantic Tension, When Readers Know Things Before The Characters Do, Whirlwind Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-12-17 18:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11857293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrandDukeForever/pseuds/GrandDukeForever
Summary: In an alternate universe/modern time period, Farrier is an actor of legendary proportions and Collins is just your average civilian.  They meet because Collins happens to be at the wrong place, wrong time—or right place, right time, depending on how one would like to look at it—and suddenly gets thrust into the limelight and swept up by a man whom heswearshe's met before, somewhere.Oh, and there's some drama around a picture of Farrier's soulmark circulating in the media and causing quite the scandal.  That too.This is meant to be a spin-off of my more serious Collins/Farrier seriesThey Came Home Warriors, but can definitely be read as a standalone.Readers must be willing to suspend some belief while reading this fic, or you might not enjoy it.  I do not claim this is a perfect work.  You have been warned.That said, SO SORRY if this is cracky, or otherwise awfulalthough according to people who have left feedback so far, this is not true (for which this writer isimmenselyrelieved).





	1. Those Quiet Days Are Gone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IsMcDowell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsMcDowell/gifts), [RUBIS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RUBIS/gifts), [SallyB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SallyB/gifts), [xiahuozi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiahuozi/gifts), [evanisalegomez](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanisalegomez/gifts), [nerdreid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdreid/gifts), [FandomLibrarian (Ivyxxx)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivyxxx/gifts), [ssantisheep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssantisheep/gifts), [omgimwritingfanfics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgimwritingfanfics/gifts).



> **For all my readers, with love.**
> 
> (Especially those who wanted an AU fic of this couple.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Collins groaned and turned over in his bed, reaching blindly for his phone. Taking it, he looked at it blearily. The name _Rupert_ lit up on the screen, and instantly Collins felt a bit wary. Rupert—or _Rudy_ , as he was more affectionately called by close friends—and he _was_ a good friend to Collins, sure, but he had a knack for getting them both tangled in situations that often were a little more than either of them bargained for. That had been the way though since they were kids, at least, that's how it seemed to the best of Collins' memory.
> 
> Releasing a short sigh, the blonde answered the call. "Hello?"
> 
>  _"Jimmy!"_ Rudy's voice came through, rather excited. _"Ol' buddy, ol' pal!"_
> 
> Immediately, Collins brought up the thumb and forefinger of his free hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He knew the meaning to the tone, even before his friend said anything further.
> 
> "Whatever it is, the answer is ' _no_ ,' Rudy," said Collins.
> 
>  _"What...?! But I haven't even asked yet!"_ his friend gasped, feigning hurt.
> 
> Collins rolled his eyes. "But you _were_ going to ask," he said dryly. "Weren't you?"
> 
>  _"Not the point!"_ Rudy quipped back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a humorist by nature, so this may very well be the worst fic I have ever written in life. Not my intention, but...well...I'll leave this one up to reader opinion. I know my strengths, and it's primarily angst and tragedy, so whenever I leave my comfort zone/genre square (WHERE I BELONG), I get incredibly nervous and self-conscious. There will be inaccuracies, and readers will need to suspend some belief throughout this fic. If this is terrible, I am so sorry, but you have been warned—I AM NOT A WITTY PERSON!!!! 
> 
> In other news, I have never had a sequel to a fic do almost equally as well as the first part of the series, so it really amazes me just how much support my previous two Dunkirk fics have received. Thanks so much, you guys! As a writer, it's been pretty exciting to experience.
> 
> Also, for those who follow me on Tumblr—as much as I would love to follow you all back, unfortunately since it is a secondary blog, Tumblr does not give me that option. All messages come through on my app for all my Tumblrs connected to AO3 usernames though! So feel free to drop me a line if you'd like to communicate! Sometimes I'm busy with work and such, but I'll always get back to you guys when I can! It's been wonderful interacting with quite a few readers on the platform so far. You all are just lovely~
> 
> Okay, okay. I'm done rambling now. Sorry. Story time!

Collins had this dream, sometimes.

* * *

It always started with a banging door.  Shouts of panic.  Heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears.  He was in a kitchen.

_"Jim...!  JIM!!!!"_

Collins _ran_.  He didn't know _how_ he knew where to go, but he just did.  There was something familiar, though a bit antiquated, about the house.  He could practically smell the pine of the wooden banister as he flew up the stairs.  _I have to get to him_ , he always found himself thinking in response to the male voice in distress, the minute he broke out into a sprint.  _I have to get him out._

The pounding on the door became louder, when he reached the top.  Despite the scene feeling all too real, Collins still knew it was a dream, mostly because of the color of and the way the light streamed from a room at the end of the hallway.  _The master bedroom_ , Collins knew somehow, but again, didn't know _how_.  He charged in.

The minute he did, that's when he'd notice the way the wooden door inside of the room seemed to shake.  A man was inside.  _Someone important, but who?_   Collins would wonder as he finally managed to reach the door, panicking, his eyes likely with a wild look to them.  Or at least, that's how they felt to Collins, whenever he reached this part.  The door was rattling with the effort the man inside was using.  The first time Collins dreamt this, even in his fear, his hands automatically went to the doorknob to to twist it and open the door, making that moment feel less like a dream and more of a memory.  He'd push the door open.  His mouth would move on its own.  It was a strange thing, though, this part, because although he was watching the situation unfold first hand, he still seemed to assume the role of a third-person spectator.  He could say it almost felt like he was going through a bit of an existential crisis.

The most frustrating thing, Collins thought, had to be that shortly after opening the door, he'd find himself holding a bundle full of _man_.  And the kicker was, of course, his dream would _never show him_ the _face_ of this man, or explain what exactly his relationship was to him. 

All he could do was watch, as he felt the man bury his face into Collins' neck, planting his hands firmly against the blonde's back, and _sobbing_.  Collins didn't know why, but the sound completely broke his heart.  The first time his hands moved on their own to wrap tightly around this individual, Collins was immensely grateful, and he was relieved when they did the same every time he had this same dream after the fact.

 _"Don't worry,"_ Collins' lips would then move and say as he patted this other man's back gently.  _"I'm here."_

 _"I'm sorry...!"_ the man would moan with great misery. 

 _"It's all right,"_ Collins always said.

 _"It's not...!"_ the other would groan.  _"Oh god...it's not...!"_

 _"Hush now...it's all right...!"_ Collins would reply quickly, cutting the other man off.

Relief would wash over him in waves, whenever he felt this other man relax.  Whenever he sensed the other man start to calm.  Collins would continue stroking the other man's back gently, like one would to a small, frightened child.

 _"Shh...it's all right..."_ Collins would always murmur, then.  _"I'm here for you now...everything's going to be just fine..."_

* * *

The sound of rattling from his phone, which was vibrating against the wood of his nightstand, was what caused the blonde to slowly rouse from his slumber.  Collins groaned and turned over in his bed, reaching blindly for his phone.  Taking it, he looked at it blearily.  The name _Rupert_ lit up on the screen, and instantly Collins felt a bit wary.  Rupert—or _Rudy_ , as he was more affectionately called by close friends—and he _was_ a good friend to Collins, sure, but he had a knack for getting them both tangled in situations that often were a little more than either of them bargained for.  That had been the way though since they were kids, at least, that's how it seemed to the best of Collins' memory.

Releasing a short sigh, the blonde answered the call.  "Hello?"

 _"Jimmy!"_ Rudy's voice came through, rather excited.  _"Ol' buddy, ol' pal!"_

Immediately, Collins brought up the thumb and forefinger of his free hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.  He knew the meaning to the tone, even before his friend said anything further.

"Whatever it is, the answer is ' _no_ ,' Rudy," said Collins.

 _"What...?!  But I haven't even asked yet!"_ his friend gasped, feigning hurt.

Collins rolled his eyes.  "But you _were_ going to ask," he said dryly.  "Weren't you?"

 _"Not the point!"_ Rudy quipped back.  _"But yes, you arsehole.  I am calling because I was wondering if you might be willing to do me a little favor..."_

Collins tilted his head back, pushing it into his pillow, and groaned.  "Oh, come on, now...you and I both know well and enough that nothing is ever 'little' with you, when it comes to the favors you need, Rudy."

_"Codswallop!"_

"Nay," Collins said, tone quite resigned.  "Feel free though, to think however you'd like."

 _"As I shall well do!"_ Rudy said with a laugh. 

Collins shook his head, thankful that his friend couldn't see him unable to hold back a half-smile.  "Pray tell, what is the nature of your call, then?"

 _"I've something to ask of you, as I said,"_ Rudy replied.  _"You do recall that I'm a bit of a freelancer on the publicist's scene, these days?"_

Collins couldn't help rolling his eyes again.  _Oh, how he knew_ , he thought.  Even as a young lad in boarding school, Rudy was one for those get rich quick—but preferably only whilst working for yourself—type of schemes.  The man often believed himself a genius.  Collins found him to be rather delusional.  Charming, however, if a bit cheeky, and he most certainly meant well too.  Probably why Collins was still friends with him, in fact.  There was something about how free flowing the other was that brought some sort of paternal instincts out of Collins, making him feel like he should be responsible for the other man's general well-being.  Like if he didn't, then everything would most certainly go to shit for his friend, and Collins wasn't about to harbor _that_ guilt for the rest of his life here on Earth.  This often meant, however, that he was constantly getting them both out of situations that his friend would put the pair of them _in_. 

"What about it, then?" Collins asked, already beginning to silently catalogue all the new poor life choices he was clearly in the process of making, in the back of his mind.

 _"Well!"_ Rudy said, and Collins knew his friend's eyes were most certainly twinkling.  _"I've finally hit the jackpot!"  
_

"...and what do you mean by that, exactly?" Collins asked, warily.

 _"I've been contacted for not just one, but two gigs!"_ Rudy said excitedly.  _"Exclusive interviews with two big stars, to be featured on my blog!  Their agents love the honesty of my content, and think it could be a huge booster in publicity for their clients!  They like the numbers I gave for consistent site hits every month, and I just know that after these articles get posted, my hits are only going to increase!  Double!  Triple, even!  This could mean some huge sponsorships in my future!  Maybe even more big-name leads!  I could retire from the workforce and just do this for a living!"_

"Unlikely..." Collins muttered, knowing how his friend's plans often went.

_"Hm?  What was that?"_

"Nothing...!" Collins said, clearing his throat.  "Nothing at all.  So...what exactly is it you need from me, then?"

 _"Well, you see..."_ Rudy began saying, and this made Collins let out yet another sigh, because he _knew_ that meant something he didn't like was coming.  _"I may have double-booked myself with the stars..."_

"And...?" Collins asked, even though he most certainly knew better.

 _"And,"_ said Rudy.  _"I obviously can't reschedule either of them."_

Collins' response was dry.  "Obviously," he said.

 _"Right?!"_ Rudy said, not realizing Collins wasn't actually agreeing with him.  _"That would be most unprofessional."_

Collins snorted softly.  "Most," he echoed again, not at all amused.

 _"Happy to hear we're on the same page, friend!"_ said Rudy.

"We're not," Collins muttered softly.

 _"Sorry, what was that?"_ asked Rudy.  _"I can't hear you well.  I'm out and about, you know.  On my way to the tube."_

"This early...?" Collins asked, pulling the phone away from his ear so he could briefly check the time.  He frowned after putting the phone back to his ear.  "It's six-thirty.  On a _weekend_."

 _"I need to be in Brighton by ten,"_ Rudy said, huffing a little as he walked his brisk pace.  _"And you, my friend, need to be in Heathrow by eleven."  
_

That had Collins rise instantly in a sitting position on his bed.  " _What_ _?!_ " he exclaimed, voice cracking slightly.  "Are you quite mad?!  You know I live in Manchester!  That's a three to four hour ride, at least!  I'm not even decent!"

He could hear the shrug he couldn't see.  _"S'why I called you now, innit?"_ Rudy said casually, like he'd thought the whole thing through carefully, although it was quite clear to Collins that he hadn't.  _"Gives you a chance to get ready...get in your car...account a bit for traffic—"_

"You _are_ mad... _right_.  I knew that," Collins grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing at the bridge of his nose.  "So Heathrow."

 _"Heathrow,"_ Rudy echoed.  _"The airport.  I've arranged for my associate to pick up a gent there."_

Collins quirked a brow.  "Your associate?" he questioned.  "You have employees now, for your little blog?"

 _"Oi!  It's not 'little,' as you say,"_ Rudy said, sounding quite miffed.  _"I've got quite the following, you know...!  Hence these opportunities that have just now come my way."_

Collins sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning.  "Right..." he said, figuring he might as well get out of bed now and continue to gather details from his friend while he got ready.  "So, this _associate_ of yours."

_"Well, that would be you, of course."_

Collins stopped in his movements momentarily and let out a soft groan, hanging his head.  " _Really_ , Rupert?"

 _"Oh ho!"_ Rudy chortled.  _"He's cross."  
_

" _Of course_ I'm cross!" Collins said, shaking his head.  "You're sending me off on assignment to fetch whoever on earth..."

_"Will Farrier."_

Collins fit on a dress shirt and tie—despite this not necessarily being all that official of a business arrangement—and shrugged on a suit jacket as he responded to his friend.  "Right.  This Will Farrier guy—"

 _"Hang on...!"_ Rudy said, his surprise giving Collins a bit of reason to pause.  _"Don't tell me you don't know who Will Farrier is...?!"_

Collins furrowed his brows together.  "No...?" he said slowly, having put on some slacks and reaching for a belt to slide on.  "Can't say that I do.  Should I know him?"

 _"He's only one of the most hot-in-demand, A-list actors of today!"_ Rudy exclaimed.

"Okay...?" Collins said, shaking his head.  "That's nice, I guess...?  You know I don't really watch movies."

This time, it was Rudy who groaned.  _"Egad...!  I did forget that you live under a rock.  Shit, how is this going to work, then..."_ he grumbled.  _"Ah...!  I know!  I'll send you some notes...!  And some pre-written questions!"_

Collins picked up his keys.  "That'll help," he said.  "Certainly."

_"Don't forget to make up a sign!"_

"What?"

 _"A sign!"_ said Rudy.  _"On cardboard or something.  I told him what your last name was; gave him your number."_

Collins frowned.  "Seriously?" he said while quickly making his way down the stairs.  "This better be legitimate."

 _"A concern he's more qualified to have, I assure you,"_ Rudy said flatly.  _"Listen, I'm about to get on board."_

Collins' hand stopped on his front doorknob.  "Wait!" he said.  "Where am I supposed to do the interview?"

 _"Ah, right, that,"_ said Rudy.  _"You're to drive him to a hotel, and there's arrangements for you both to use one of their meeting rooms.  I'll send you an email!  Anyway, train's here.  Got to go!  Good luck!"_

"Great..." Collins said as he started up his car, tossing his phone onto the passenger's seat as he set off for the airport. 

* * *

Traffic was awful, but Collins made it within a reasonable time, he supposed, given that he made it to the terminal where he was supposed to meet this _Farrier_ with about twenty minutes to spare.  He decided to spend that time looking over the email he'd received from Rudy, apparently sometime during his drive over. 

The interview was to take place at the Bulgari Hotel in London.  According to his friend, there would be a space ready for them to use to conduct the interview, upon check-in.  Collins sighed at this—Rudy's list of questions weren't necessarily extensive, but they would take at least another hour of his day, and then he'd have either quite the long drive back or have to book himself a room.  He was keen on neither option, but knew he'd have to do what he must, though he found himself wondering how it was Rudy always seemed to call him up for these kinds of complicated favors and why on earth he always allowed himself to _agree_.

With five minutes gone, Collins closed out from the mail app on his phone and switched over to his web browser to pull up an image search for this Farrier fellow, since he supposed it would help to know what the man might look like, since he was picking him up and all.  He was mildly surprised to note that the man was rather attractive.  Collins failed to notice, but at some point he unconsciously bit his lower lip while looking through the photographs.  Eventually, he checked his watch and realized that it might be a good time to stand.  Taking the makeshift sign he'd created with Farrier's name on it, he went to stand at the gate where he was supposed to meet the other man.

Farrier, it turned out, was either as completely unaware of himself as Collins was with his career, or he just didn't care who it was that spotted him.  Regardless, he [walked out into the public eye](http://www2.pictures.zimbio.com/bg/Tom+Hardy+Tom+Hardy+Vancouver+International+I9VNJSQCef8l.jpg) with a [great deal of swagger](http://www3.pictures.zimbio.com/bg/Tom+Hardy+Tom+Hardy+Vancouver+Airport+8rk6YBKxxZll.jpg); the hat he'd been wearing for the majority of his flight being removed by the time he approached Collins.  He was dressed rather casually for someone with his degree of notoriety.  Collins saw the flash of the fan and paparazzi cameras before he saw the man himself, but as soon as he did, Farrier took the blonde's breath away.  When the man spotted him, Collins couldn't help the way his posture stiffened, like a deer caught in line of headlamps.  Collins suddenly wished he thought to put on a pair of shades.  He held the sign with Farrier's name to his chest as if he were trying to shield himself from something.  He gulped involuntarily when Farrier approached him.

The first thing the man did was hold out his hand.  Somewhat shakily, Collins took it.  It was the briefest of shakes, but the blonde nearly gasped—somehow when skin made contact with skin, the feeling was _electric_.  Collins took back his hand rather quickly, too distracted with his own embarrassment to notice the slightly stunned look on the other man's face, which quickly disappeared and was replaced with his trademark neutral expression.  Not that Collins would know.  Farrier then cleared his throat.

"You're Collins, then?" the darker-haired man asked, his voice surprisingly soft and an eyebrow slightly raised.

Collins unconsciously licked his lips nervously and nodded.  "Y-yes," he said, wondering why it was he felt almost starstruck, even though he barely even knew two facts that he could rub together about the man.  "That's, uh...that's me."

There was a flash of something in the other man's eyes— _perhaps amusement?_   Collins honestly couldn't tell.  Not that he thought it mattered.  He took a step back, and was surprised when Farrier took a step forward, as if meaning to keep the length of the gap between them consistent.  More flashing of cameras.  Collins blinked—it was then he realized that the man was mostly blocking his face from view, and Farrier had in his hand a pair of sunglasses.

"Put these on," the man murmured.  "Did you drive here?"

Collins accepted the shades gratefully, not thinking twice about borrowing them.  Nodding, he fit them onto his face. 

"Yes, sir," he said.  "Follow me."

Farrier half-smiled.  "You're a bit of a jittery fellow, aren't you...?" he asked as they began to walk away from the clicking of cameras and the calls from some obnoxious fans.  "You don't have to be so formal, by the way.  You know my name, don't you?"

"R-right, then," Collins said, trying to ignore how the man chose to walk alongside him instead of continuing to lag a bit behind.  "Do you prefer Mr. Farrier, then?"

"...that's a bit better, I suppose," the other man said, and had Collins bothered to look, he might have noted the slight conflict on the other man's face. 

Collins nodded.  "Okay, then, Mr. Farrier," he said as they reached where the blonde had parked the car.  Collins opened the door for him.  "After you, sir."

Farrier chuckled softly at the blonde's brief slip back into formality and he settled himself into the back of his car.  "Full door to door service, eh?" he said, and if Collins didn't know any better, he could have sworn the other man's tone was slightly _teasing_.  "Is that how you're going to convince me to give you some decent material for your interview?"

"I don't even—" Collins started at first, but then immediately stopped himself from nearly admitting that he didn't really know who the other man was at all, aside from name and occupation. 

And the fact that he was quite the looker too, of course, especially in person, although Collins would rather drop dead than admit _that_.  So, rather than responding, he merely awkwardly shut the door behind Farrier after the other man got settled and then he got into the driver's seat, started the car, and soon they were off to the Bulgari. 

Farrier then, to his credit, did try several times to make some small talk, but Collins either replied too generically or otherwise provided too short of a response for them to carry on, so the other man eventually gave up and they spent the rest of their ride in silence.  Eventually, they arrived safely at the Bulgari, and true to Rudy's word, upon check-in Collins and Farrier were greeted by a manager at the hotel who was more than happy to guide them to the meeting room they'd be using. 

It took several minutes, but eventually both men were able to settle in on chairs across from each other.  Unlike Collins, who looked a bit constipated, Farrier was quite casually leaning back in his chair, one arm propped up on one of the armrests and his hand tilted back a bit in the air, palm facing towards the ceiling.  There was a bit of a twinkle to his eyes, of amusement, but Collins was too distracted with his severely outdated palm pilot to notice.  He was busy pulling up Rudy's pre-written questions, which he was even more grateful for now, especially because he couldn't figure out what it was about this man that made his throat so dry.  Collins most certainly was aware of his own sexual preference for men, but he'd never quite gotten this flustered over one in quite some time.  He felt a little out of his element, as a result; he was normally the more sensible one in any given situation.  He didn't feel at all that way now, especially in that moment.  He looked up when Farrier chuckled, having noticed the way Collins licked his lips nervously again.

"You're a rather nervous bloke, aren't you?" Farrier asked.  He gave a pointed look to the palm pilot in Collins' hands too.  "An old-fashioned one, too."

Collins flushed rather red.  "P-problem with that...?" he stuttered a little.

Farrier laughed.  "Not at all, darling," he said lightly, with a bit of a lazy drawl to his speech.  "Though I'm getting the sense you've never done this before...?"

Collins hated how hot his cheeks felt.  He frowned down at his screen.

"N-no," he admitted reluctantly.

"Hm.  Curious," Farrier said, the expression in his eyes unreadable as he raked them over Collins, making the blonde man squirm in his seat a little.  "Makes me wonder why my agent recommend that I speak with you.  Not that I mind, of course, if I'm really going to be honest.  I do so hate dealing with starstruck reporters.  Or those obnoxious ones that think they are entitled to every little piece of information that's out there."

"Definitely not either one of those..." Collins muttered, a bit of his true personality shining through.

Farrier arched an eyebrow.  His lips may have twitched slightly at the corners in amusement.

"Well, don't be nervous, dove," Farrier said, and Collins didn't understand how things had suddenly escalated to the point where the other man already felt comfortable using pet names on him, _or perhaps this was normal for him?  Was this man just flirtatious like this by nature?_   Collins didn't know, but he supposed he was about to find out rather shortly.  "Go ahead and ask me your questions.  Let's see what you've got on that fossil you're holding there."

Collins could feel the heat of his blush run down to his neck.  "R-right..." he said nervously, looking down at the list he'd pulled up on his palm pilot.  "O-okay, so..."

Farrier gave him a small smile, his arched eyebrow rising a bit higher.  "So...?" he asked, though Collins was too flustered to realize the other man was just being cheeky.

Feeling the pressure, Collins quickly scanned his eyes over the first question and then looked up as he asked it.  "Um...your latest project," he said a bit awkwardly.  "The one you're here for now."

Farrier nodded.  "Right.  _The King's Champion_ ," he said as Collins began scribbling some notes down.  "What about it?"

"What can...what can you, uh...tell us about it?" Collins asked, stylus at the ready.

Farrier snorted softly.  "Depends," he said.  "Are you looking for some insider info, or more of a synopsis?"

Collins didn't know why he felt as if he were being called out on his bluff; he wasn't exactly lying.  Yet, when looking down at Rudy's notes and realizing he'd been given no other cues aside from the generic question he'd just asked the other man aloud, Collins couldn't help feeling as if he were caught red-handed doing something he wasn't supposed to.

"Erm..." he said, looking up at Farrier.  "I, uh...both, I suppose...?  Could be helpful...?"

He didn't know what he was expecting, but it most certainly wasn't Farrier blinking at him at first, and then suddenly throwing his head back and letting out an uproarious laugh.  Collins merely stared at him, somewhat stunned, the heat that had been slowly fading away from his cheeks suddenly firing back like a flock of flames. 

"Oh _my_ , I'm...I'm sorry," Farrier said, wiping a tear from his eye, body still shaking a bit with laughter though he managed to mostly recover.  "I just...you just seem _so lost_ right now, and I have to say, it's rather refreshing."

"...thank you?" Collins said, uncertain about how else to respond. 

Farrier shook his head and smiled.  "I'm telling you it's a good thing," he said.  "Although, before I go ahead and start answering your questions, would you mind if I asked you one of my own...?"

Collins blinked.  He never expected that he'd be the one to suddenly get interrogated.  Seeing now harm in it, however, he simply nodded.

"Sure," he said.  "What would you like to know?"

"Do you really know at all who I am?" Farrier asked, head tilting a bit to one side, honest curiosity reflected in his eyes.

Collins' brows furrowed together a little.  "I, uh...what exactly do you mean by that?" he asked, flicking out his tongue briefly to moisten his lips again, and of course not noticing the way Farrier's eyes seemed drawn to the nervous action.  "I...I know you're an actor, if that's what you mean."

Farrier quirked a brow.  "Mmhmm," he said.  "And is that both the start and end of it?"

"You've been in...quite a few movies?" Collins tried.  "At least fifty or so...?"

Farrier chuckled softly.  "Give or take," he agreed with a nod.  "Have you seen any of them?"

Collins didn't know why he suddenly felt like someone who had gotten caught red-handed doing something they shouldn't have.  His cheeks ran hot. 

"...can't say that I have," he mumbled, but then added on quickly.  "To be fair, I hardly watch movies at all, really."

Farrier raised his eyebrows in surprise.  "Huh," he said before leaning back in his chair with a light thump where his back connected with the backside of the chair.  "Well that explains a bit."

This time Collins was the one who arched a brow.  "Pardon?" he asked.

"You're not annoying," Farrier, who winced the minute he said this and immediately corrected himself by following up with.  "That is to say...you're not  _overly starstruck_ , like most of these reporters are that I meet."

"Oh," Collins said, for lack of anything better to say.

Farrier smiled a bit sheepishly as he rubbed at the back of his neck.  "Truth be told, I was a bit concerned at first, when my agent told me to meet with a local blogger," he said.  "I only agreed because there was a signed contract, but—"

Collins couldn't help but to laugh a little at that.  "You were worried I could be a fanatic," he said. 

"Right," said Farrier.

Collins half-smiled.  "I understand," he said.  "Don't worry, I'm not."

Farrier smiled warmly.  "I can see that," he said. 

He then noticed Collins glance briefly at his watch.  Farrier gave him an apologetic look. 

"I'm sorry," he said.  "We got a bit off track, didn't we?"

Collins sighed, but it wasn't directed at the other man; he was just thinking about his long car ride back.  Looking back up at Farrier, he shook his head and plastered on a smile.

"Just a tick," he said.  "But if you're ready to go on...?"

Farrier nodded.  "I am," he said simply.

"Great!" Collins said, looking down at his pilot.  "Now, where were we...?"

Farrier straightened in his chair.  "I was about to tell you what _The King's Champion_ was about!" he said enthusiastically.

"Ah, yes!" Collins said, smiling brightly at the other man.  "That's right, you were."

"Well, let's see..." Farrier said, expression becoming a bit more serious as he started rattling off the details.  "In this one, I play an RAF pilot—"

At that moment, Collins' right eye twitched slightly in response to a ringing that suddenly decided to start in his ears.  He could still hear Farrier, but the other man's voice was beginning to sound as if it were starting to fade away a little.  He tried focusing on writing his notes onto his palm pilot, hoping that would help.  It didn't alleviate the symptom, however.

"That's...interesting...!" Collins said, trying to be encouraging, although he was trying to fight off the slight migraine the ringing in his ears was starting to give him. 

Farrier quirked an eyebrow.  "You a history buff?" he asked.

"N-no...!" Collins said, shaking his head and instantly regretting the action.  "I'm, uh...I'm an engineer.  For planes, I mean..."

" _Really_ _!_ " Farrier said, his interest genuine.  "What got you into that?"

Collins shrugged a shoulder slightly and gave the other man a small smile.  "I've just always been fascinated with flying."

"Well, have you?" Farrier asked, leaning forward in his seat again, clearly interested in what Collins had to say about this topic.  "Flown?"

"I still do, sometimes," Collins admitted with a small smile.  "But we're getting off track again..."

Farrier cleared his throat and straightened his posture.  "Right, right," he said.  "I suppose I'll get us back on again, then."

Collins' lips curved a bit more upward at the corners.  "I'd appreciate that, thank you," he said.

Farrier nodded.  "Well, the script has us flying somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean," continued Farrier.  "Then, at some point, my character's plane is the one that gets shot down..."

The ringing in his ears grew a bit louder.  Collins squeezed his eyes shut.  Farrier's words echoed in his thoughts.

_"My character's plane is the one that gets shot down."_

_The one that gets shot down_. 

_Gets shot down._

_Shot down._

"Mm..." Collins murmured softly, pressing his fingers against his eyes, hoping that it would tamper down the nauseating feeling that was suddenly overtaking him.

He could hear the frown in Farrier's voice, which was sounding increasingly more distant as darkness seemed to be invading his line of vision. 

"Hey...!  You okay...?"

The ringing seemed almost as if it were thinning out.  Then, Collins began to wonder if he was going quite mad, because the ringing slowly gave way to an almost sort of rumbling.

 _Like the propellers of a plane_ , Collins thought to himself, wondering why that was the first thought to occur to him, but then realized it was probably because he and Farrier were talking about exactly that.  Planes.

Fighter pilots.  The RAF.

Collins could have sworn he was seeing flashes of sky, a dashboard, and there was that ringing again.  _That ringing_.

 _From being in the air_ , Collins realized.  _It was the same sound_.

Farrier's voice sounded even further now.  "...lins?"

 _Or maybe it wasn't the other man's voice at all_ , thought Collins.  _Oh god_ , he thought.  _Is this like that dream again?_

It seemed so, much to the blonde man's dismay.  He'd never once experienced having just as vivid daydreams as he did every once in a while, with that one recurring dream at night.  The one where he was in some mysterious house way out in the countryside.  _No_ —this one, this time, he was high up in the sky.  Someone was on his tail.  Collins didn't know how hew knew that; only that he just _knew_.

_"He's on me!"_

Collins' recognized his own voice, of course, filled with panic.  His heart felt as if it were thumping through his chest, and all he could seem to think was _oh shit_.

Then, came another familiar voice, one that Collins hadn't been expecting.  The same one from that dream about him helping that person who couldn't open the bathroom door in the house.  The same man.

_"I'm on him."_

Collins couldn't explain the overwhelming feeling of _relief_ , but this didn't last long.  The next thing Collins knew, he was seeing it.

 _The Supermarine Spitfire_ —Collins somehow knew that it was the one carrying the man who'd just saved him—was _falling_.  It was going _down, down, down_ , and ominously out of sight.  Collins didn't know why, but he felt his body shaking. 

_"Hey!"_

It was Farrier's voice, and the action of the other man shaking him by the shoulders which thrust Collins back into the present.  Collins gasped softly, surprised upon realizing just how close Farrier's face was to his.  He noted, for the first time ever, how the other man's eyes were not just a blue-green hue like his own, but were also wide and filled with worry.  Collins didn't know why his heart fluttered at this, nor did he know why he felt a little bit guilty as well towards the man, but he was.

Collins grimaced.  "I-I'm sorry..." he murmured softly, moving to place a hand over the one Farrier had on his shoulder, with the intention of gently moving it off of him.  "Can't say I know what just came over me..."

Farrier shook his head, eyes still reflecting worry.  "It's fine," he said.  "As long as you're all right."

Collins nodded.  "I am," he replied.

Both men nearly jumped out of their skins when their hands made contact, a jolt of electricity seeming to pass between them.  They both looked at each other in slight wonder, an odd sort of silence settling between them for a moment.  Finally, Farrier was the one who spoke up first. 

"Perhaps we should continue this another time," Farrier said softly.  "Tomorrow?"

Collins winced.  "I'd much rather it be today..." he said.  "Well, unless you're able to meet with the blogger who runs the site."

Farrier quirked a brow.  "Why wouldn't you be able to do it?" he asked.  "Don't you work with him?"

"Er...not exactly," Collins admitted.  "We're more like good friends from our boarding school days.  I was just doing this as a favor for him."

Farrier frowned.  "He couldn't do the interview?"

"More like he double-booked and needed a hand," said Collins.  "...it was an accident."

Farrier's brows rose on his forehead.  "Ah...well," he said.  "I much prefer to do this with you, anyway."

Collins half-smiled.  "Oh, you flatter me," he said.  "Unfortunately though, unless you're willing to continue this over the phone..."

The other man frowned again.  "Why over the phone?" he asked.  "You're not local?"

"Not like my friend is," said Collins.  "I'm from Manchester."

Farrier's eyes widened in surprise.  "That's quite far."

"Tell me about it," Collins said with a tired chuckle.  "I've got quite the long drive back."

"Well that just won't do at all," Farrier said as he rose from his seat. 

Collins looked up at the other man curiously.  "Where are you going?" he asked.

"You mean, where are ' _we_ ,'" Farrier said, taking Collins unexpectedly by the wrist as he began to tug the blonde man along behind him.  "Come along."

"Okay...where are _we_ going?" Collins amended, bewildered.

"My hotel room has two beds," Farrier said, as if that were sufficient for an explanation.  "As you can see, there's only one of me.  You may have the other."

Things were escalating rather quickly and in fact, Collins noted with some mild degree of fascination, they were both being oddly comfortable with each other for strangers who just met.  _Only it didn't really feel like that_ , Collins found himself thinking and finding the thought to be rather strange.  _It didn't feel like they were meeting for the first time, somehow_.

"O-oh..." Collins said, trying to pry himself out of Farrier's grip, but astonishingly to no avail; the man's hold was unexpectedly strong.  "Y-you don't have to do that at all...I could always book a room myself, you know...later."

"Poppycock," Farrier said, surprising him.  "You just told me you've come a long way, and that this whole thing was just a favor to a friend.  The last thing on your to-do list, I'm sure, is to book a hotel you weren't planning on staying at in the first place, especially given how expensive the per night rate here can be."

Collins blinked.  "I...er...well... _oof_...!"

He bumped unexpectedly into the other man's backside when the other man abruptly stopped in his tracks.  Farrier narrowed his eyes and cursed.

" _Shit_...!" he hissed.

"What's—" _wrong_ , Collins was about to ask, when Farrier quickly turned round on him, and suddenly the blonde found himself wide-eyed and pinned between the wall and the other man. 

Collins raised both brows, his lips rounding, ready to form his next question, when Farrier beat him to speech.  He flashed Collins an apologetic look.

"Forgive me," he muttered, placing a finger beneath Collins' chin, tipping the other man's face slightly upward towards his.  "But I'm afraid I'm going to need just one little favor from you...!"

Before Collins could ask, an angry woman's voice seemed to echo down the hall towards them.  " _William!_ "

Collins didn't know what he was expecting, but it most certainly wasn't a full on kiss.  The blonde couldn't tell if the shriek was coming from the woman who was now charging towards them from one end of the hall, or from his own mind, which was a complete jumble of thoughts now, and Collins even had to marvel at the fact that not only was Farrier a surprisingly good kisser, but that said kiss was causing his feet to stick to the floor.  His mind barely even registered Farrier's lips being pulled off his leaving Collins rather awed and breathless as this strange woman who seemed to know Farrier pulled the other man off him and then gave him a smart slap to the face.  Farrier simply took it without flinching much; just the turn of his head.

"You're a sick human being!" the woman cried.

"Mm.  Amanda?" said Farrier.  "Can't say I know as to how you've found me, but—"

"I saw the alert on one of my social media channels," the woman whose name apparently was Amanda snapped.  "That you were spotted heading to this hotel _with another man_...!  I couldn't believe the rumors being posted!"

"What, that I'm seeing someone else?" Farrier asked.

"No, that you're _actually gay_ ," Amanda said, shaking her head, her voice shrill.  "Which we both know is entirely false, because—"

" _Actually_ , Amanda," said Farrier.  "If I'm going to be perfectly honest, I was just exploring my preferences in sexuality when I was with you, and I must say, that—"

" _I refuse to believe it!_ " Amanda shouted, the commotion she was causing starting to cause spectators to look on at what was happening.  Some were getting out their phones.  "I _absolutely won't_...!"

"Well, I'm sorry to cause a burst to your little bubble, then," said Farrier.  "But I'm afraid that everything you're hearing is quite true.  I _do_ prefer men."

Collins' eyes widened when Farrier suddenly pulled him to the forefront.  Farrier slung an arm around Collins' shoulders and brought the man closer to him, as if to emphasize his point.

"And _this_...!" Farrier said.  "Is my better half, of course."

People were starting to poke their heads around the corner to see what the commotion was about.  Apparently the woman's hysterics had carried quite well down the hallway, although neither she nor Farrier seemed to care that they were garnering a few spectators.  One might have had their phone out—Collins couldn't tell.  He was too stunned to think much of anything until Farrier's supposed ex-flame narrowed her eyes at him.

"I don't believe you," she said.  "He doesn't even look comfortable to be with you."

And then, Collins literally didn't know what came over him.  He turned around, like it was the most natural thing for him to do in the world, and brought his face close to Farrier's ear, so that only the other man could hear what he had to say next.

"I don't know what this is about..." he murmured.  "But I'm willing to help you.  Just act like we really need to get back to your room."

He assumed Farrier would go along with the plan and declare to the woman just that.  He didn't expect that Farrier would first run a hand through Collins' hair.  His cheeks went aflame when he felt the smile on Farrier's lips close to his ear as he whispered.

_"It's like you read my mind, love.  I'm impressed."_

The whole damn situation was irrational, and didn't make sense.  _It was like one of those moments_ , Collins thought,  _the type that should only happen in movies_.  And yet, here they were.

He couldn't prove it, but he was sure Farrier was winking at the woman now.  "Sorry," he said, tone rather nonchalant.  "M'afraid he's rather shy, my little dove."

The pet name made Collins' heart flutter, and his cheeks rage with heat as he internally berated himself for feeling any inkling of excitement from hearing it.  _He just had a role to play for right now_ , Collins reminded himself.  _This wasn't real.  Just getting a poor bloke out of a jam_.  Bizarre as the situation may be.

"Wants to be gettin' back to our room," Farrier went on.  "This was supposed to be a quiet weekend for us, you see."

The woman fumed.  "You're going to regret this...!" she swore.  "I'll make sure of it!"

"I don't think I'll ever regret anything as much as having dated you," Farrier muttered under his breath, but only Collins heard it.  The darker-haired man took hold of the blonde's wrist and murmured.  "Come along, then."

Collins didn't know why the words made his breath hitch.  His vision grew a bit hazy, the way he felt when he was about to be hit with another of those strange dreamlike visions, but the fact that Farrier kept him moving seemed to keep him far enough away from it.  As they brushed past the furious woman, Farrier surprised him by placing the cap he'd been carrying with him since the airport on Collins' head.

"Keep your head low, and don't let them take a good look at you," Farrier murmured. 

He didn't have to tell Collins twice.  With his free hand, the blonde tipped the end of Farrier's hat down to help block most of his face as they made their way to the elevators.  Some hotel employees seemed to gather what was going on as they made their way, and they assisted with keeping the small interested crowd at bay, preventing them from following the men into one of the elevators and finding out what room or floor they would eventually be on and in. 

It wasn't until they reached Farrier's hotel room that the other man released his grip on Collins, and that the blonde noticed that the other man had been hanging onto him the whole time.  Farrier keyed them in, and as soon as they got inside, both men released sighs of relief and then looked at each other.  Farrier shook his head.

"So sorry to have involved you in all that," he said.

There were so many questions that Collins wanted to ask, but he ultimately decided against it.  He gave Farrier a slight shrug.

"It's all right," said Collins.  "Happy to have been of help."

Placing hands on his hips then, Collins looked around and scanned the general area.  He didn't notice Farrier regard him with some curiosity.

"Looking for something?" the darker-haired man asked.

Collins blinked and faced him.  "A-ah..." he said, looking a bit sheepish.  "Well..."

"What is it?" Farrier asked.

Collins rubbed at the back of his neck.  "Erm...a way out, I suppose?" he said. 

Farrier frowned.  "Right now?"

Collins took a glance at his watch.  "Well...I do have to get on home."

"That's right—that's where we left off," Farrier said with a soft snort.  "I remember now.  You had that ridiculous commute from up north.  I insist—you're staying with me."

Collins shook his head.  "I...I couldn't impose," he said.

"There's two beds," Farrier said, motioning towards the extra one in the room as if to emphasize his point.  "Plenty of space."

Collins shifted his weight on his feet.  "Then...I'll compensate for half," he said.

Farrier shook his head.  "You'll do nothing of the sort," he said.  "Now...do you want to wash up first, or shall I?"

"Uh..." Collins blinked.

Farrier chuckled.  "I suppose I'll go first, then," he said, patting the blonde on the shoulder as he passed by.  "No escape antics, eh?  You might get hounded by a few less than pleasant people on your way out if you try."

Collins had to admit, that wasn't ideal.  He nodded numbly. 

"And maybe, if you're up for it, I could answer a few of those questions for you before we get us some shut-eye, eh?" Farrier suggested with a wink.  "How's that sound?"

"S-sure," Collins agreed, and it wasn't until Farrier had disappeared into the bathroom that he finally walked over to one of the beds and plopped down on the edge of it, in a daze.  Closing his eyes and rubbing at them with his thumb and forefingers, the blonde murmured to himself.  "Oh, what a day..."

Eventually, Farrier came back out, and it took all Collins had not to allow his stares to linger inappropriately on the man, who had apparently had the decency to come out fully dressed.  Collins then took his turn with the shower, and then as promised, when he returned, he and Farrier spent close to an hour going through a majority of the questions Rudy had given to be asked. 

The next day, Farrier had placed a call to one of the hotel's managers and had it arranged for him and Collins to be snuck out the back.  Farrier had offered to escort Collins to his car, but the blonde insisted he was fine, and instead parted ways shortly after exchanging their goodbyes.

Collins and Farrier shook hands, and the blonde had half-smiled at the other man.  "Well," he said.  "Thank you for answering all my interview questions, and well, uh...yes.  Just...thank you."

"Don't mention it," Farrier said, quite warmly, in fact.  "The pleasure was truly all mine."

Collins couldn't decide whether he didn't mind or hated the way the other man seemed to make his heart skip.  Farrier motioned at his lips.

"Sorry for the..." he said, looking decently apologetic.

Collins couldn't help the small smile he gave back in return.  He shook his head.

"We'll call that an extenuating circumstance," he said, giving a slight laugh. 

Farrier half-smiled at that.  "Right..." he murmured.  "Drive safely, then."

Collins nodded.  He took his leave then, for lack of anything else better to say. 

It took several minutes, but Collins eventually made it back to his car.  Hopping in, Collins started it up and was soon on his way.  By the time he got home, he was exhausted, and barely even managed to get changed before he plopped onto his bed, falling asleep almost instantly upon his head hitting one of his pillows.  It wouldn't be a completely restful sleep, however, for it was one of those things where no sooner had he fallen asleep, it would feel as if he soon needed to get right back up again.

* * *

When the phone rang early the next day, five-thirty on a Monday, Collins groaned as he turned over in his bed, reaching out his arm and searching blindly for his phone with one hand.  When he'd found it, he used his fingers to pull it off the charger and he answered the call without looking at who it was on the screen.  He was too tired to.

"Hello...?" he rasped.

 _"Holy shit!"_ said Rudy, his voice coming through the phone quite loudly.  _"Jimmy!  When I said I needed you to help me with gettin' a big scoop outta Farrier, I meant ask the questions I gave you, and give me an article!  Not steal my thunder!"_

Collins was confused.  "What...?" he asked, slowly turning over onto his stomach before rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and forefingers.  "What are you talking about, Rudy?  I sent off a Word document of all your questions and the answers that actor gave me in response to them to you last night...!  Did you not receive them?"

 _"Did I not—Jimmy!  Are you serious?!"_ Rudy asked.  _"Have you not seen the front page of the news this morning?"_

"The news...?" Collins asked as he slowly began to stretch in bed. 

 _"Yes, the news!"_ Rudy exclaimed.  _"I mean, jeezus!  Do you seriously live under that large of a rock?"_

"Wha—?  _Rudy_."

_"Jimmy."_

Collins frowned.  "Look, I seriously don't know what you're going on about, but I only just woke up," he said.  "Thanks to your calling me, as a matter of fact."

 _"Oh, well...I feel a little bit bad about that, I do,"_ Rudy said, although Collins had doubts that the other man felt sorry at all.  _"But seriously, mate.  You're gon' a shite yourself when I tell you..."_

"Tell me what, exactly?" asked Collins.

 _"That you're front page news this morning!"_ Rudy exclaimed, and suddenly Collins had rolled over in his bed and instantaneously got himself into an upright seated position.  _"Literally!"_

" _Wait_...!" Collins said, eyes wide and disbelieving.  He hissed.  "I'm _what_...?!"

 _"Check it for yourself, if you don't believe me!"_ said Rudy.

Collins didn't believe him, and so he did decide to go check out what on earth the other man could possibly be talking about.  "Hang on," he said just before pulling the phone away from his ear.  "Let me take a look at this, then."

He tapped on the web browser app on his phone, and then typed in the web address for _The Guardian_.  Within seconds of the page loading, Collins felt his jaw _drop_.  He quickly brought the phone back to his ear.

"You've _got_ to be _shitting me_ ," said Collins.

 _"That's what I said!"_ exclaimed Rudy.  _"Before I looked, of course."_

"Wait, what do you mean?" Collins asked, his brows furrowing together in a slight frown.  "Someone else told you made you aware of this first?"

 _"Yeah!"_ Rudy said, and he was laughing.  _"Oh boy...and you won't believe who!"_

Collins suddenly felt the pit that had already been growing in his stomach weigh heavily with dread.  "I'm afraid to ask..." he said.

 _"That man's bloody agent!"_ said Rudy.  _"Will Farrier's!  Which reminds me..."_

"Oh god..." Collins groaned, already getting the vague feeling he wasn't going to like very much where this was going, especially because he recognized his friend's the 'I'm giving you puppy dog eyes even if you can't at all see me' in his tone.  " _Don't_ —!"

 _"Apparently, Farrier's image, as popular as it is, can't seem to afford any extra scandals, especially this close to promoting his latest feature film,"_ said Rudy.  _"So his agent reached out to me with a contract; said she had a proposition for me."_

"No...!  _No_...!" Collins said, shaking his head furiously, despite his friend not being able to see it.  "Whatever it is you're about to ask me, Rudy, I'm telling you right now, my friend...the answer is _no_."

 _"Oh, come on now!"_ Rudy said, voice taking on a slight wine.  _"They're only askin' for our help to last just a few months...!  Just to get them through their promotional schedule without scandal...!"_

Collins let out another groan.  He tilted his head back and pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"You already said ' _yes_ ,' didn't you?" he asked.

 _"...maybe?"_ Rudy said innocently.

Collins sighed.  "...and just what did you get me tangled up in this time?"

 _"We'll discuss the details and so on in a bit, yeah?"_ Rudy asked. _"I'm actually on my way to come get you now...and ah—that reminds me...!"_

"...what is it now, Rupert?" Collins asked warily.

 _"Aw, come on, mate!  Don't be like that, now!"_ said Rudy.  _"Don't get all cross!  Just do me one favor while you wait for me to come pick you up, yeah?"_

"Yeah?  And what's that?" Collins asked. 

 _"Don't step outside your place until I say so, and...oh yeah!"_ said Rudy.  _"Might be best if you didn't look out your window, either, so...that's actually two favors I'm askin' of ya."_

Collins frowned.  "Now why on earth would you tell me not to do either of those things?" he asked as he decided, against his better judgment, to move towards his window and start to pull back a curtain.  His eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he saw what was outside.  " _Holy shit_...!"

He could practically see the flat look his friend was giving him on the other end.  _"You looked outside just now, didn't you?"_ Rudy said, uncharacteristically dry.  _"What'd I tell you, eh?  I told you that you shouldn't be lookin' or goin' outside."_

"You didn't tell me that there were going to be _all these photographers!_ " Collins hissed back into his phone's speaker.  "Just what on earth are they all doing out there?  How did they find me?!"

 _"Well, welcome to a day in the life of Will Farrier's world, Jimmy,"_ Rudy said, to his credit, humorlessly.  _"Crazy, rabid fans and an endless stream of paparazzi."_

Collins knocked his head back against the nearest wall to him and groaned.  Something told him his life was about to go from real quiet and quaint to rather complicated and never quite the same, ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know it doesn't make sense that they reincarnated with the same exact names as their past. So sorry. I'm partial to them.
> 
> If people do not like this story, it will not be continued, and this single chapter will eventually be buried...silently...forgotten...and none shall ever speak of it again. Hahaha.


	2. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What do you mean?" Farrier asked with a frown. "That I'm going to get picked up by a blogger?"
> 
>  _"Now, I know this isn't typical practice,"_ his agent replied. _"But—"_
> 
> "You're _damn bloody right_ this isn't _typical practice_!" Farrier exclaimed. "You're telling me to pop in a car with a complete and total stranger! And of the reporter variety, to boot! You know how crazy the starstruck ones can be!"
> 
>  _"And I can assure you, Will, this one won't be,"_ his agent promised, her tone the very essence of calm and patience, like she's had to deal with situations like this with others that she's managed, many times over.
> 
> "And how do you know that?!" Farrier asked.
> 
>  _"Because,"_ his agent replied, her tone rather matter-of-fact. _"Rupert Sullivan is one of my best mates from university, and I made sure to look into his site's stats, after he reached out. We did lose touch for a bit, but we've reconnected in recent months."_
> 
> "And how long was the gap?" Farrier asked.
> 
>  _"Not long,"_ his agent replied. _"Do you trust me? Come on, think on it. When have I ever steered you wrong?"_
> 
> Farrier sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The literal irony to the title of this fic is, I genuinely did not expect even one reader to like this fic. So. To see the responses I _have_ received, _wow_. This means a hell of a lot to me as a writer. Thank you guys!
> 
> That said, while I know where I'd like this fic to end, I literally had no plans for the middle (since I was SO sure this one was just going to get tossed out, LOL), so...if you have any curious thoughts occur to you as we go, feel free to voice them! You may very well inspire me to give you some answers. LMAO. I am laughing so hard right now and shaking my head in total disbelief because I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING, OH HEY~
> 
> Also, someone asked what Collins might look like in my head for purposes of this fic. I couldn't find the exact thing I was looking for, but these come close enough: [ [1](http://rankin.co.uk/media/6230-29-014-376x420.jpg) | [2](http://esquireuk.cdnds.net/17/27/2048x1152/hd-aspect-1499346341-jack-head.jpg) | [3](http://esquireuk.cdnds.net/17/27/1600x2133/gallery-1499346341-jack-head.jpg) ] with number 1, of course, being the closest, in terms of how fresh-faced I picture him being. Just maybe not that pose, however. I think of him a bit more shy, reserved, and timid in the way he presents himself, if that makes any sense.

Farrier was asked once, in an interview, how he managed to get so immersed in his roles.  The actor had to think about this one for a while, and after ruminating over it, he was able to articulate a response that seemed to give rise to more questions, rather than answers.

 _"I like to pick the roles that I feel resonate with me the most,"_ he had offered with a slight shrug of the shoulder and a small, lopsided smile.  _"If I'm to be honest, I can't really explain it, but sometimes it's like I'm not even wearing a second skin.  Some of these scripts, when I read them, just simply seem to come to life."_

And it was true.  Especially the one for the film he was on board with now, as a fighter pilot during the Second World War.  Sometimes, during filming, he could swear that he was actually seeing what would later be placed in, post-production, using CGI, while the rest of his fellow actors and the film crew only saw the green screen.

* * *

_"Check fuel, Fortis One and Two."_

Farrier's mind felt like it was splitting in two directions.  Apparently, in the "real" world, he was saying his lines.  Much to his surprise, every time, the director would never call cut, and no one would ever mention any problems whenever they filmed a scene.  Farrier couldn't figure out how this worked at all, because whenever he filmed intense scenes like this, where his character was supposedly flying in the air, he more often than not saw things like this.  It was an intense daydream, as far as Farrier could determine.

In this dream, Farrier looked down at his dash, checking the fuel gauge.  _Seventy gallons_ , he thought.

He said as much aloud.  Farrier looked around at the expanse.  There was a crackle that filled his ears, followed by a vibrant voice that made Farrier's breath hitch at how brightly it came through.

_"Sixty-eight gallons, Fortis Leader."_

Farrier didn't know why this made him nervous.  The apparent squadron leader then replied.

_"Stay down at five hundred feet to leave fuel for forty minutes fighting time over Dunkirk."_

Then came the voice that made Farrier's heart clench again.  _Why was he so concerned with this?_

 _"Understood,"_ the male voice quipped.  _"Vector one twenty-eight.  Angels, point five."_

Farrier looked down at his chart.  Fortis Leader, _or whoever he was_ , Farrier thought, again spoke.

_"Keep an eye on that gauge, even when it gets lively.  Save enough to get back."_

Farrier glanced at his fuel gauge and pulled on his steering stick.  It was then he notice the other two aircraft line neatly with his, as they all banked left.

* * *

_"Cut!"_  

Farrier blinked.  He was back in the present again.  His present, and not the dream.  He looked around him and spotted the smiling face of the director, nodding at him and his co-actors.

"Great job, gentlemen!  Take twenty."

Farrier didn't know why he felt so in a daze.  Numbly, he went towards where he'd abandoned some of his things, prior to filming the scene.  His phone being one of the items he picked up from a table, Farrier checked the screen and saw that his agent had called, but hadn't left a voicemail.  This wasn't unusual—his agent seldom left messages when she happened to know he was filming.  She knew he'd get back to her eventually.

Releasing a small sigh, Farrier gave the number a call back.  His agent answered within two rings.

_"Hello?"_

"It's Will," Farrier muttered.

 _"Ah!  Will!"_ Farrier's agent replied.  _"Wonderful!  Listen, I've some news for you."_

"News?" Farrier questioned, a brow raised.

 _"Yes!"_ his agent replied, perhaps a little too cheerily for Farrier's liking.  _"A great opportunity for publicity, in fact!  You're to be picked up by a blogger when you land in Heathrow in three weeks."_

"What do you mean?" Farrier asked with a frown.  "That I'm going to get picked up by a blogger?"

 _"Now, I know this isn't typical practice,"_ his agent replied.  _"But—"_

"You're _damn bloody right_ this isn't _typical practice_!" Farrier exclaimed.  "You're telling me to pop in a car with a complete and total stranger! And of the reporter variety, to boot! You know how crazy the starstruck ones can be!"

 _"And I can assure you, Will, this one won't be,"_ his agent promised, her tone the very essence of calm and patience, like she's had to deal with situations like this with others that she's managed, many times over.

"And how do you know that?!" Farrier asked.

 _"Because,"_ his agent replied, her tone rather matter-of-fact.  _"Rupert Sullivan is one of my best mates from university, and I made sure to look into his site's stats, after he reached out. We did lose touch for a bit, but we've reconnected in recent months."_

"And how long was the gap?" Farrier asked.

 _"Not long,"_ his agent replied.  _"Do you trust me?  Come on, think on it.  When have I ever steered you wrong?"_

Farrier sighed.  His agent tried to provide him with additional reassurance.

_"Besides, there's a contract."_

That didn't necessarily make him feel any better about the car ride.  "A contract," he said flatly.

 _"You can trust Rudy,"_ his agent insisted.  _"Don't worry."_

Farrier sighed.  It was true that he trusted his agent—she'd been with him from the start, after all, when he was just a small-time actor trying to gather his bearings.  In fact, they'd been in business together so long, that their relationship had somehow devolved from a strictly professional one to something closer to brother and sister.  Still, that didn't mean he wouldn't give her ideas a side-eye, every now and again.  Especially now, since he was arguably more in demand than he'd ever been at any point in his career.  Sometimes he wondered if his agent still saw him as the man he was when they'd first met; an actor a bit down on his luck in between local productions.  She'd approached him at some coffee shop, after the last run of one play he'd been a part of, and that turned out to be the most life-changing coffee of his life.  He knew it was thanks in great part to his agent's persistence in diligence that he was where he was today.

_"Will?"_

"Yeah, _yes_ ," Farrier said, shaking himself out of his distraction and returning his focus to their phone conversation.  "Still here."

_"Listen, just meet with them—you're planning on going back to London anyway in a few weeks.  If you think you're not going to be comfortable in the car with them when you get there, just call yourself a cab, okay?"_

Farrier nodded, despite his agent not being able to see.  That sounded reasonable, he figured.

"Fine," he said.  "So in three weeks, then?"

 _"Three weeks!"_ his agent confirmed, chipper.

* * *

Farrier had nearly forgotten about the arrangement, until he'd received a message.  It was from the blogger his agent had mentioned— _Rupert_ something or other—and after listening to the voicemail left, Farrier was apparently looking out for a blonde bloke who would supposedly be holding up a sign that said _Collins_.

Not amused by this in the least, since he'd already been wary of the arrangement to begin with, Farrier decided to play things by ear, although he was quite certain that he was going to just exchange niceties and then arrange to meet this blogger's associate at the Bulgari while riding in a separate cab.  That was the plan, at least, until he met Collins.

Oh, seeing Collins had changed everything.  The sight of the blonde, nervously holding the placard donning his name and looking incredibly unsure of himself took Farrier's  breath away. 

His initial plan had been to approach Collins gruffly, and he had been prepared to be fairly dismissive.  After seeing who Collins was, however, Farrier found that he no longer held the desire to intimidate, and he instead made sure to have removed his hat before approaching the blonde.

He noted internally his observation of feeling somewhat nervous, which was a bit uncharacteristic for him at this point in his career.  Then, when the blonde nervously held out his for a shake and their hands clasped together, Farrier's eyes had widened with shock.  It was like a charge zapped between them.  Farrier had never felt anything like this before with anyone, especially upon first contact.  He couldn't help but to marvel at it a moment before quickly forcing himself to neutralize his expression.

 _"You're Collins, then?"_ Farrier had asked.

Then, Farrier couldn't help but watch the way the blonde flicked out his tongue to moisten his lips before he gave his response.  As a result, Farrier suddenly found himself lingering on those lips, wondering whether they were as soft as they appeared.  Somewhere in the back of his mind he had a fleeting thought about how he was sure he'd never felt like this towards anyone before, or at least to the best of his recollection.  Farrier didn't know it then, but there was an irony to his feelings of instant attraction towards Collins.  What he _did_ know, however, was that he had changed his mind.  He decided he would ride with Collins after all.

What happened after that, of course, had been chaos.  Farrier didn't see the arguably disastrous celebrity news coverage on himself until he received a call from his agent, and well, needless to say he found himself pleasantly surprised by her offer of solution. 

* * *

Farrier blinked when his agent set down a pile of paper onto the table between them.  He looked up when she tapped at it with her pointer finger.

"What's this?" he asked.

" _This_ ," his agent replied.  "Is how we're going to deal with your little _scandal_."

Farrier grimaced.  "Why do I get the sense that you've come up with a very bad idea?" he asked.

His agent snorted softly.  " _Will_."

"...yes?"

"Do you, or do you not recall what I told you when you started dating that Amanda Fairbanks?" his agent asked dryly.

"Oh, here we go..." Farrier grumbled as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.  "Yes, _yes_...you _did_ tell me that you thought she was a complete nutter, but _to be fair_ , she seemed perfectly harmless at the time."

His agent shook her head.  "You weren't even truly interested in her at the time," she said.  "You just wanted a beard."

"An arrangement which I thought she'd understood," Farrier grumbled.

"Well, thanks to her, now here we are," said his agent.  "Right in the middle of when you're supposed to be promoting your new movie.  We don't want the attention drawn too far away from that now, do we?"

"Or it could flock more people to the box office," said Farrier.

" _Could_ , but then I had a thought," his agent said, pushing the pile of papers towards him.  "You see, I've spoken with Rupert."

It took a moment for Farrier to recall why that name sounded familiar to him.  "The blogger?" he asked.

His agent nodded.  "The blogger."

"And...?" Farrier asked, not yet following where the other was going with this.

" _And_..." his agent went on.  "He said his associate was more than agreeable to the arrangement I proposed."

All Farrier could focus on in that sentence was the implication that Collins would be somehow involved in mending his current predicament.  Suddenly, he was _very_ interested, though he tried to remain nonchalant.

"What 'arrangement' might that be?" Farrier asked.

"If there's one thing these fanatics out there seem to enjoy, it's a good love story," his agent said.  " _Especially_ if they think it's been secretly ongoing for a long time.  Rather than just a fling."

Farrier flicked out his tongue to briefly lick his lips.  "So, you're saying...?"

"This right here is a contract," his agent said.  "Which that man is going to come here and sign.  It's a six-month commitment."

"Six months?!" Farrier said, brows raised.

"Yes, that's right," his agent said, nodding.  "You've three months left in filming, and two months where you need to be on the road to promote."

"And the last month?" Farrier asked.

"Is when you two can decide how you both want to announce your breaking things off," his agent said with a shrug.  "The most important thing right now is to show the public you're not simply reckless.  You know serial daters are frowned upon in this business."

Farrier winced at that.  "And he's truly agreed...?"

His agent nodded.  "As far as I'm aware, Rupert said he'd be by tomorrow."

Farrier's stomach did a flip at that.  "Will I see him?" he asked.

He missed the brief flash of curiosity that passed through his agent's eyes before she responded.  "Honey, once that man agrees to the terms and signs off on this contract, then you can work things out with him and see him however much you'd like.  Or however much he'll agree to, at any rate.  He's simply agreeing to cooperate with us, you understand.  He's signing off on some of his time, not his entire life away."

Farrier nodded.  "Of course," he said, his own voice sounding distant to his ears, his heartbeat seeming to drown out most everything else.  "Till morrow, then."

"Till morrow!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo...if you guys happen to notice minor changes/edits to the previous chapter, and in chapters following as I go, well...that's what I do. I backwards edit all the time. CoughlikeFarrier'smoviebecausethenewtitleseemedbettercoughcough. WishI'dcoughthoughtofitsoonercough. (Yes. Yes, I jumbled those words on purpose. To confuse y'all. OoOoOooo~) Okay, moving on...>_> *Begins scribbling ideas for the next chapter*
> 
> And, for the record, this chapter _literally_ only exists because of reader enthusiasm and support. I have as much an inkling of what is going to happen next as the rest of you do. I've never written something like this with so little a plan. At least I know how I want it to end; I guess that's a start? LOL...oh my.
> 
> Feel free to follow me on Tumblr~ Link can be found in my AO3 profile. Unfortunately, because it's a secondary blog (and Tumblr is lame when it comes to secondary blogs), I can't follow anyone back on it, but I can still receive private messages as well as chats. Been chatting with a few users already and it's been lovely!!


	3. This Ain't Disney, Folks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You boys fine without a third party?" she asked, once Collins had stepped past her and into the room.
> 
> It should have been more awkward than it was, Collins supposed, or at the very least daunting, the idea of being left alone in the room with Farrier. Though if the agent left, that could still be a very real possibility, he figured. At the moment though, with Farrier sitting casually on one of three couches in the room, and despite the very lavish appearance of the meeting room, Collins somehow didn't yet feel intimidated. 
> 
> Farrier raised his eyebrows at his agent. "I'm fine if he is," he said, nodding at Collins and addressing him directly now. "Are you?"
> 
> Collins clenched his hands, which were at his sides, into fists briefly and then relaxed them. "Well, uh...I think so. Yes," he said quietly.
> 
> Farrier's agent nodded and squeezed Collins' shoulder once in an attempt to be reassuring. "Don't worry, dear," she said gently, just loud enough only for the blonde to hear. "Despite his fan's fantasies, Will's not the type to bite."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of have a better idea what I'm doing with our boys now, and yet still have no clue what it is I'm doing. WOO!
> 
> Also, still chewing over whether I want to name Farrier's agent or not. None of the names I'm cycling through seem to have the right ring to 'em, and I'm also not sure how much longer she'll play a part in the fic anyways, sooooooo...I guess she'll remain "the agent" for the time being.
> 
> AND CAN I JUST SAY...I am SO INVIGORATED hearing from anons, and people in my messages, and man oh man. For those of you not familiar with me here, or on my other AO3 accounts, I cannot tell you all just how much interactions with readers in any form really touches me. When I do write, it often comes from a very dark place, as I'm sure a lot of creative people can relate to, and seriously—to have conversations...I can't even explain what it does. It's like...imagine someone writing by candlelight, and maybe they're in some dark cave or something...and then they sense a light. And when they look up, it's someone holding up a lantern at the mouth of the cave, saying something like, "Hey! Come on out! Come join us!" And the writer thinks...actually, never mind. I have no idea where I was going with this. LOL. Let's just move on. Nobody cares about these side rantings anyway unless they pertain to something within the fic.
> 
> SO...! *Points to a finger in the air and charges forward, shouting in a voice as if crying out "REDWALL"!* (Gosh, I loved that series as a child.) ONWARD! >:o

_It's like he was Ariel_ , Collins couldn't help thinking to himself, upon arriving at the offices of Farrier's agent and being ushered into a room shortly after identifying himself.  _Only he wasn't here to give up his voice and fins_. 

Farrier's agent greeted him brightly, and soon a stack of papers were pushed his way.  Blinking, Collins looked down at them.  Farrier's agent handed him a pen.

"Go ahead and look the terms over," the woman said.  "Take your time.  We can add or detract from it anything you'd like."

Collins looked down at the stack and felt his cheeks flush.  _At least sex wasn't part of the package_ , Collins thought to himself as he flipped through the pages.  The terms actually seemed simple enough. 

For the three months Farrier was still in filming, they were requesting Collins' occasional appearances on set—they just had to appear like a lovey-dovey couple for the paparazzi cameras that would be sure to find their way to any outdoor set.  In the two months following that, Collins was asked to spare time to accompany the actor to any red carpet appearances, film screenings, and the like.  In the final month, he and Farrier would just need to discuss how they were going to announce their breakup. 

In exchange for all his efforts, Collins was being offered a grand total which was nearly triple his current salary as an aircraft maintenance engineer, which would be given to him in increments, a check to follow each appearance he gave.  The blonde had to admit the overall number was tempting in and of itself.  Biting at the corner of his lower lip, Collins hovered a black pen over the blank line that required his signature.  Farrier's agent, who had been watching him carefully, tilted her head to the side.

"Problem?" she asked.

Collins blinked.  "N-no...!" he said, shaking his head fervently.  "I, just...this all seems so sudden, is all."

"Funny.  Rupert made it sound like you were rather gung-ho about this," the woman said with a sigh, placing her chin upon her hand.  "Although I suppose he always did have a tendency to exaggerate, from time to time."

 _Try all the time_ , Collins didn't say aloud.  The agent went on.

"But if that's the case, then I suppose we should offer you more time to think about this," she said.  "Or if you'd like to decline..."

Collins' lips moved before his mind could take the time to think things over.  "Will he really benefit from this?"

The agent blinked.  "Who, William?" she asked, soon laughing a bit at the question.  "Why of course, Mr. Collins!  We would not have summoned you here otherwise."

Collins licked at his lips nervously.  "How exactly does he...?"

"Oh!  Well, for _starters_ , he gets to have that lunatic woman off his back.  She's worse than those fans who like to stalk their celebrity crushes, I swear," Farrier's agent replied.  She quickly placed a hand to her lips.  "Ah.  Please excuse me.  I suppose that was rather unprofessional of me, and crass..."

Collins shook his head.  "I wouldn't know," he said. 

The woman laughed.  "My, aren't you refreshing?" she asked.

Collins didn't know why he felt himself blushing again.  Perhaps it was because he was reminded of some of Farrier's words to him the day that they'd met. 

"So that's it then?" he asked.  "I'm a red herring?"

"In a manner of speaking," the agent replied, nodding.  "Will can't take a knock to his image, you see.  Not while he's trying to promote his new movie.  The idea is to have your 'relationship' bring intrigue.  Rumors are sure to spread that you're now visiting him openly on set, and fans will be scouring the Internet for any evidence of that.  We're hoping while they do this, as a byproduct, they'll want to learn more about the film and be more likely to attend; encourage others to go too.  Things like that."

"Huh," Collins said with a blink.  "That sounds...wait, what do you mean that 'now' I'm 'visiting him openly'?  I've never even met him before."

"Oh, _that_ _!_   That's just part of a backstory we'll be releasing to the press," Farrier's agent said with a smile.  "Make it appear like although the confirmation of the relationship is sudden, you two in fact _aren't_."

Collins squirmed a bit in his seat.  "Erm..."

"Don't worry!" the agent said with a wave.  "We're only stretching the truth with the time period.  The rest of the details, well, probably best to leave those to the pair of you, should you decide to move forward with us."

Collins nodded at that.  Looking back down at the pile of paper, he weighed his options.  On the one hand, he was being offered a fair sum of money for his trouble.  On the other hand, he wasn't entirely confident that the money was worth being thrust into the public eye.  Especially since this was only to be a temporary arrangement.  Still, there was a reason Collins was contemplating this at all.  One he wasn't willing to admit out loud.

He lifted his head again.  "And he's okay with this?" Collins asked.

The agent nodded.  "Ran it by him before you were called, in fact," she said.  "Do you think you'll need more time?"

"N-no, I...I'll do it," Collins said before putting pen to paper. 

His hand felt as if it were moving automatically across the page as he scribbled out his signature on the proper line.  His cheeks were aflame, and he didn't know why. 

The agent looked surprised, as if she'd actually expected him to spend longer thinking things over, now that she knew that their mutual contact hadn't entirely been truthful about Collins' enthusiasm over the agreement.  "Well then...since it appears we now have an accord," she said, taking back the stack of papers.  She looked down at where he signed his name.  "Hm.  James Earl Collins, huh?"

Collins' cheeks dusted a light pink.  "Yes, ma'am."

The agent looked up.  "How elegant," she said with a smile.  "Very fitting for you."

"T-thank you..." Collins said, not knowing why he always felt so shy when it came to human interactions.

He supposed that was why he enjoyed the work he did.  Focus mostly on fixing things and talking with someone only to communicate on how best to troubleshoot a problem and that was pretty much it.  He typically stayed away from any extraneous social activity, like catching beers with his co-workers on Fridays, which seemed to be a tradition the rest of them enjoyed upholding.  No, Collins very much preferred just heading straight home; perhaps curling up with a nice book to read.  A blanket, too, in months that were cold, and perhaps with a nice warm cup of hot cocoa.

Farrier's agent rose from her seat.  "Well, now that we've got all that sorted out, I suppose now would be a good time to get the pair of you better acquainted."

Collins' heart fluttered at that.  It all seemed so surreal.  He'd never been one to follow celebrities, sure, but he'd be lying if he said the tempting payout was the only thing that had him in the agent's office that day.  There was something about the other man; something the blonde couldn't articulate—couldn't put his finger on.  It went well beyond the boundaries of celebrity and deeper into, well, Collins had no words for it yet, but he hoped that over time he might.

He stood from his chair when the woman motioned for him to follow.  He raised his brows.

"He's here?" Collins asked.

The woman chuckled.  "Well, of course," she said.  "Since we were misinformed of your level of enthusiasm, Will's just been waiting patiently so the pair of you could discuss any details you need to—I know he's got a photo shoot scheduled tomorrow.  It could be a good place to start."

Collins followed the woman out into the hallway.  They eventually stopped in front of a particular door, which the agent placed both her hands on, leaning slightly against it.

"I'm glad, too, that I don't have any bad news to break," she said, alluding to the contract issue.

Collins didn't know what else to do other than nod.  The agent smiled and formed a fist with one of her hands and knocked on the door.

"Will?" she called out.  "Are you ready?  I've got James Collins with me."

Farrier's voice came through muffled from the other side, and from where Collins was standing, he couldn't really hear it.  The actor's agent could though, apparently, and whatever he'd said must have been favorable because soon she was smiling and opening the door, motioning for Collins to come forward.

"You boys fine without a third party?" she asked, once Collins had stepped past her and into the room.

It should have been more awkward than it was, Collins supposed, or at the very least daunting, the idea of being left alone in the room with Farrier.  Though if the agent left, that could still be a very real possibility, he figured.  At the moment though, with Farrier sitting casually on [one of three couches in the room](https://img-new.cgtrader.com/items/69072/5065333241/office-space-with-couches-and-lamps-3d-model-max.jpg), and despite the very lavish appearance of the meeting room, Collins somehow didn't yet feel intimidated. 

Farrier raised his eyebrows at his agent.  "I'm fine if he is," he said, nodding at Collins and addressing him directly now.  "Are you?"

Collins clenched his hands, which were at his sides, into fists briefly and then relaxed them.  "Well, uh...I think so.  Yes," he said quietly.

Farrier's agent nodded and squeezed Collins' shoulder once in an attempt to be reassuring.  "Don't worry, dear," she said gently, just loud enough only for the blonde to hear.  "Despite his fan's fantasies, Will's not the type to bite."

Collins turned beet red when the agent winked and turned to leave.  Farrier's brows furrowed together and she called out after her.

"Oi, there!" he said, but there was hardly any heat to his words; notwithstanding his facial expression, it really was all in friendly jest.  "Don't spook the man!"

 _"Take your own advice, chum!"_ his agent managed to throw airily back before the door shut on its own behind her.

Collins didn't know whether to feel amused or bewildered by the exchange.  He watched the woman leave, and after she'd gone, he turned back towards Farrier, who was now standing.  Farrier looked a bit antsy as well, Collins noted, though he couldn't imagine why.  He was just an ordinary civilian, after all, not even remotely in Farrier's league.

The actor motioned towards one of the couch chairs.  "Please," Farrier said.  "Settle in."

Collins figured that was as reasonable a thing to do as any, and so he chose the one across from where Farrier had been and plopped down.  Farrier smiled and followed suit, sitting back down in the chair opposite.

"I'm glad you've come," Farrier said softly, and Collins was surprised at how warm and comfortable the man appeared.

It was a lot more than he could say for himself.  Collins found, much to his embarrassment, that he didn't quite know where to place his hands.  He eventually settled for placing them a bit awkwardly in his lap, folded together; his posture oddly rigid.  Farrier watched all this with light amusement, though the twinkle in his eyes might have betrayed a little bit more than that.

"You truly are a genuinely nervous fellow," Farrier murmured, shaking his head almost as if in mild disbelief.  "Which is why I was a little surprised to hear that you were so agreeable to this."

Collins shrugged and found that looking down at his feet was a bit easier, though he did chance a glance up at Farrier a few times.  "Well...I've had it explained to me a few times, and it seemed to make sense," he admitted.  He looked up a bit more fully when he said the next part.  "Can't say I know how the business works, but...if I don't help, your movie might suffer?"

He blushed a bit when Farrier broke out into a laugh.  "You really don't have a clue, do you?" he asked, clearly finding the other man endearing, though Collins didn't know to read that off him yet. 

Collins did that nervous tick again, the one where he licked his lips nervously.  Between that and the biting of the lip, the blonde was secretly driving Farrier quite mad.

"I-I did tell you that I don't really watch movies, did I not?" Collins asked.

Farrier nodded and smiled.  "That's true," he said.  "You did."

"Anyway..." Collins said, and there was the bite of the lip now; Farrier didn't know if he could stand it.  "Your agent said...well, she said a lot of things, actually, but—"

"Oh, I'm sure she did," Farrier said, chuckling.  "She most certainly has a way."

Collins didn't know why he found that particular comment so funny.  " _Ha_...!" he said, not meaning to laugh when he did.  "Perhaps that's why she and Rudy get along so well.  I suppose in a way, they're similar."

He shrank back a little in himself upon misinterpreting Farrier's look of surprise for something less favorable.  The actor blinked.

"Huh," he said.

"W-what is it?" Collins asked, cheeks apparently planning on staying forever red because of this man. 

Farrier shook his head.  "Nothing, just...I think that might be the first time I've seen you smile so naturally," he winced and quickly made an amendment, realizing his word choice could sound rather negative instead of the feeling he was trying to convey.  "I mean...without worry; thinking too deeply about what reaction you might get."

For once, it seemed the other man was the one stumbling over his words, and Collins had to admit that the whole thing had him feeling rather relieved.  It gave him some comfort to see he wasn't the only one with awkward moments.  And though he didn't know the other man well enough yet, he could still somehow tell that Farrier meant no harm in any part of what he'd just said.  So Collins nodded.

"Well, I'll have to be a quick study, won't I?" he asked.  "I'll need to learn to be more comfortable around you."

His heart seemed to thump loudly in his ears when Farrier smiled.  "You're right," the actor said, nodding.  "Fair point."

"Mm...your agent said something about a photo shoot?" Collins asked, for lack of anything else to say, and a little afraid of what would happen if there was a lull in conversation.

Farrier seemed to think about it for a moment before recognition lit up in his eyes.  "Ah, that's right!  The one tomorrow," he said with a nod.  "For a fall collection."

Collins shook his head.  "I never quite understood that," he said.

"Hm?" Farrier asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I mean, I guess the concept makes sense, when you think about it," said Collins.  "But I've always found it a little odd seeing clothes meant for autumn in the middle of summer."

Farrier couldn't help laughing at that.  "Ha- _ha_ _!_ " he said, eyes sparkling with amusement.  "Well, it's good for people to prepare, innit?"

Collins half-smiled.  "Point."

"I'll admit—I'm relieved you're so easy to talk to," Farrier murmured, causing Collins' cheeks to flush yet again.  "I do not anticipate that this would work otherwise."

"No," Collins agreed.  "I suppose I'd feel the same."

"Paycheck wouldn't have been enough for you?" Farrier asked, fishing a little, a bit curious at Collins motives and yet part of him a little afraid to know the real answer.

Collins seemed just as hesitant to say anything about it at all.  He was careful.

"It's...certainly going to be helpful, I suppose," said Collins.  "But I suppose I should confess—I actually wasn't sure of my decision today, when I walked in."

"Oh?" Farrier asked, leaning forward, more interested now.  "How do you mean?"

And there Collins went again, worrying his lower lip again between teeth briefly before responding.  Farrier's eyes lingered on the action.

"I agreed to come here with an open mind," Collins said vaguely.  "I wasn't actually committed to signing."

Farrier wasn't sure whether or not he was actually surprised.  He settled for nodding.

"Thank you for being honest with me," he said.

Collins gave a slight shrug.  "Didn't think not to be," he said.

Farrier smiled.  He settled back further in his chair.

"Well, then..." he said.  "Shall we discuss what's to happen tomorrow then?"

Collins nodded.  "Sure," he said.

"Then, for starters," said Farrier.  "We should probably start calling each other by our first names."

"A-ah," said Collins.  "Right.  That makes sense."

"Did I hear that right, earlier?" Farrier asked then, referring to when his agent had announced Collins at the door.  "Your first name's James?"

"James?  Yes," Collins said, nodding. 

"Do you go by anything?" Farrier asked.

Collins blinked.  "You mean like a nickname?"

"Yes."

"Oh," said Collins.  "Well, my close friends and best mates?  They call me 'Jimmy.'"

"Jimmy, hm?" Farrier murmured.  "I see."

Collins tilted his head slightly to one side.  "Do I sense disappointment?"

"No, not really," said Farrier.  "Although...maybe the part, a little, where you say there's others that call you that."

"Oh," Collins said again, his vocabulary set for the day apparently most eloquent.   "Erm...I suppose I'm sorry about that?"

"Don't be," Farrier said, shaking his head.  "Tell me, though, has anyone shortened any further?"

"Any further?" Collins asked, a bit confused.  "Shortened?   Shortened what?  The nickname?"

"That's right," said Farrier.  "Like, say...anyone out there call you ' _Jim_ ,' perchance?"

Collins hadn't, and he couldn't explain why his heart skipped a beat when the other man said it.  He shook his head.

"N-no..." he said.  "That they do not."

Farrier smiled.  "Yeah?" he said.  "Well, then...I quite like the sound o' that.  _Jim_..."

Collins' stomach suddenly felt like it was doing flips.  His cheeks also felt hot like an active volcano.  Farrier grinned, though whether or not it was due to the blonde's flustered state, well, Collins couldn't tell.

"Hugh," the other man said, causing Collins to blink.

The blonde frowned slightly in confusion.  "Sorry, _what_...?" he asked.  "I thought your first name was William?"

Farrier chuckled.  "It is," he said, nodding.

Collins quirked an eyebrow at that.  "Then how on earth do you get ' _Hugh_ ' from _that_ _?_ " he asked.  "Unless...is this like one of those not intuitive nicknames?  Like 'Hank' or 'Bobby'?"

"No, no, nothing quite like that," Farrier said with a laugh.  "It's part of my middle name, actually."

Collins blinked again.  "Oh," he said.  " _Oh_...I see."

"Right," said Farrier.  "My middle name; _Fitzhugh._ When you shorten it, it's—"

" _Hugh_..." Collins said, and then that strange thing happened to him again; the _flashes_.

_Of an open field.  A figure limping towards him.  Deafening silence.  Anticipation.  Feelings of grief replaced by joy._

"—you?"

" _Hm_ _?_ " Collins asked, blinking, Farrier's voice bringing him back to the present.  He shook his head and offered the other man a look of apology.  "I'm sorry...w-what was that?"

Farrier regarded him with mild amusement and shook his head.  "Just where do you go?" he asked.

Collins flushed.  "I-I don't know what you mean..." he mumbled.

"Never mind," Farrier said, apparently deciding to let the question drop for the time being.  "I'll just repeat what I said.  I was simply _asking_..."

"Yes?" Collins asked.  "What is it?"

"Well, I was just curious," Farrier said.  "As to whether you also had a middle."

"Name?  I do, of course," said Collins. 

Farrier shrugged.  "Sometimes people don't," he said.

"Ah," Collins said with a nod.  "Yes.  I suppose that's true."

"May I know it?" Farrier asked.

These were such simple questions, Collins knew, and yet somehow just from the other man asking them, he became quite flustered.  He wondered if this was what onions might say they felt, if they could speak, of course.  About how maybe some of them weren't quite ready to have their layers peeled back, even just one.  Still, despite feeling—perhaps a bit irrationally—embarrassed, Collins saw no reason why not to respond.

"Earl..." he said, rather soft.  "The full is James Earl Collins, of course, when you string it all together."

"Mmhm," Farrier said, nodding.  "I quite like the sound of it."

Collins looked away, unsure of what else to say.  Farrier saved them both.

"Anyhow," said Farrier.  "We keep getting off track.  The photo shoot."

"A-ah...right.  _That_..." said Collins.  "I suppose we should discuss what to do about that."

Farrier nodded.  Collins squirmed a bit in his chair.

"What time will it be?" he asked.

"Early morning," said Farrier.  "Getting the right shots takes a lot longer than you think."

"Oh, I can imagine..." Collins murmured, then his eyes widened and he quickly shook his head and waved his hands when Farrier looked at him curiously.  "No, no...!  I mean...what I meant by that, was...well...what little I do know about your line of work is often not everything is as how it seems..."

Farrier nodded.  "A wise statement, that."

Collins snorted softly, forgetting himself for a second.  "As if I've any pearls of wisdom to share when it comes to these kinds of matters."

Farrier, to his credit, chose not to say anything about the naturalness in the way the other man responded.  He was learning quickly himself that perhaps the teasing would need to be tabled for until the blonde truly got comfortable with him.  And Farrier was indeed hoping that the other man would eventually grow to feel more at ease around him.

"So.  Tomorrow," he tried again.

"Yes, well," Collins said, scrunching his nose a bit and shaking his head.  "We just seem to keep coming round to that, now don't we?"

Farrier blinked at first, but then he threw his head back and he laughed, and laughed, and laughed. 

* * *

They eventually did manage to figure it out, amazingly enough, and Farrier couldn't have been more anxious on set.  Collins had informed him that he might not be able to make their first meeting at all, it being so sudden and everything.  Just because Collins was on board to help him now, it didn't mean that the other man didn't have a life outside of Farrier's, and that the other man didn't plan to keep living it.  Collins wasn't the lowest man on the totem pole at his job, but he was just low enough that he was still required to obtain permission from a superior before he took any kind of leave.  Upon realizing this, Farrier's agent said she'd reach out for any future arrangements, but for this first time, Collins was on his own.

So when the blonde did manage to show up, with a pair of coffees in hand, the surprise that Farrier showed in his expression was genuine.  Perhaps, even, so was the elation, though Collins kept reminding himself not to be fooled.  _The man was a movie star_ , he chided himself, even though it was hard to take his own lecture seriously when Farrier's arms were suddenly around him, enveloping him in some unexpected warmth.  _He could be with anyone else if he wanted to.  Anytime_.

"So happy to see you, _darling_ ," Farrier said, drawling a bit with that last word.  "I didn't think you'd come."

"Well believe me, it wasn't easy," Collins said truthfully.  "But I found a way to make it work."

He had promised his boss he'd take a double-shift over the weekend.  As far as he knew, Farrier didn't have to know about it.  Unless it somehow impacted the terms of their contract, Collins figured it was best to just keep things like this quiet and separate.  The man had bigger things to worry about, after all.

Like this photo shoot.  Collins took a brief scan of the room.  He noted the racks with clothes, the white backdrop, and camera setup, along with the accessories that would be used to make sure that all the images Farrier took would come out looking their best.

"You've got quite an operation going on here, don't you?" Collins asked.

"Are you impressed?" Farrier asked.

His makeup artist unintentionally interrupted just before Collins could reply.  " _Oh_...!" the young woman said brightly; she had to have been in her early to mid-twenties, if Collins were to guess.  She smiled brightly at him.  "You must be Collins...!"

And Collins had to marvel over how this young woman somehow reminded him of that actress who played Mrs. Hudson on BBC Network's _Sherlock_ show.  He shook the hand that was offered.

"Yes," he replied.

"Well we've all heard just so much about you!" 

Collins blinked.  "You have?" he asked.

And despite their having discussed this, Collins _still_ found himself surprised when Farrier slipped an arm around his torso, bringing him close and responding for him.  Collins desperately hoped he wasn't radiating as much heat as he swore he felt; Farrier looked straight at his makeup artist's face when he spoke.

"Come now, let's not overwhelm him straight out the gate," Farrier said, who had sensed a slew of prying questions were about to come.  "My dove's quite shy, you know, and it's only his first day out in the light."

And by that he meant the public eye.  If either of them were going to give even a semblance of an exclusive, it would be after the two of them had a fair discussion about it.  Farrier grinned, and the woman pouted.  

"Foul play, William!"

Farrier shook his head as he gently tugged Collins along, now having moved his grip to around the other man's wrist.  "Maybe some other day!" he promised vaguely before murmuring close to Collins' ear as Farrier guided him towards a chair.  "I've already warned them you're the quiet sort, so you don't have to answer any questions if you don't feel comfortable.  They won't be offended, I swear.  They're a good lot."

Collins nodded.  "I wouldn't know what to say, anyway."

Farrier laughed, and they would appear as if sharing a private joke between them.  Collins flustered and Farrier smiled at him.  Collins' breath hitched when Farrier placed fingers beneath his chin and used them to tilt the blonde's head slightly upward.

"Gods, I hope I don't ruin you..." he murmured, the expression in his eyes oddly serious.

Collins wasn't sure as to how to reply.  He wondered if this was how people felt, when they were so taken in by a celebrity; Collins, after all, had no prior personal experiences to draw from.  He was a quiet sort of fellow in every sense of the word, mostly keeping to himself, and probably the closest he ever came to being a fan about anything was when he pored over the likes of Robert Frost and the sonnets of William Shakespeare.  This man, though, left him breathless and his mind hazy, just from being so close.  A strange feeling of heat suddenly spread across his upper back, between the shoulder blades, but there wasn't any pain. 

He shivered when Farrier's thumb trailed along his lower lip.  "I wish to kiss you," Farrier whispered.

"Will!  We're ready for you!" a voice called out to the actor, before Collins could reply.

Farrier sighed.  He motioned Collins towards a chair.

"You'll have a decent view from here," he promised, before getting ready to turn and get his makeup on and hair fixed.  "Just sit back and relax."

Collins didn't remember settling in; his whole body still felt like it was tingling, and _it was strange_ , he thought, _how Farrier's distance from him suddenly made the air around him feel a bit colder_.  While in the chair Farrier left him in, Collins found that he was content to quietly observe as the other man began the process of getting photographs of his various poses taken, and his scurrying to and from the preselected wardrobe where the racks of clothing were, changing into the next set.  

Collins had gotten so absorbed in simply watching, that he could hardly believe how soon it was all over, and Farrier was beside him again.  Or, more accurately, he was in front of Collins, his hands resting on the armrests of the tall chair the blonde sat in; his face rather close.  Collins told himself that the reason he didn't instinctively recoil was because of the contract and the fact he had a duty to hold up his half of appearing as lovers, when really he had no idea why he felt the need to justify himself in his own mind at all.

He also decided that Farrier, on his part, was a genius of an actor, even without having seen a single film the other man was in, simply because of how he knew the other man was causing them to appear, by coming in such close proximity like this.  There was power in the suggestion.

Farrier's murmured question was simple. Collins, to his credit, did not jump sky high when the man gently ran his thumbs along the backside of both the blonde's hands, which were lightly gripped around the edge of the armrests.  

_"Shall we get out of here?"_

Collins nodded.  Farrier smiled.

"Come along, then," the actor said quietly, moving back to give Collins room to hop off.  "Let's go."

And though Collins told himself that he took Farrier's hand so easily because he was just keeping up his end of the ruse, the truth was, and much to his growing surprise, he found that he didn't much mind at all.  Not in the slightest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In hindsight, I probably should have looked for a tag that mentions "awkwardness" somewhere. LOL. Oh well. Maybe I'll do it later, hahaha. Hope you all enjoyed this one! Man, I'm getting so many more ideas for this, now that I have the ball rolling. Also, this is literally slow burn not because I intended for it to be, but because I still have no concrete plan, SO. Stay buckled in, y'all! Musie and I are thinking! We're thinking!! Lolol.


	4. The Truth Feels Like a Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You came," Farrier murmured quietly, when he'd gotten close enough for the other man to hear.
> 
> His heart fluttered at the shy smile Collins gave him. "We had plans," the blonde said with a small shrug. "...did we not?"
> 
> "We do," Farrier confirmed, enjoying the way the blonde's breath hitched as he drew closer to him. "How was work?"
> 
> "F-fine," Collins said, cheeks dusting a light pink. Farrier noticed the way the man's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed down his lump of nervousness. "How, um...how was filming...?"
> 
> "Nothing I haven't done before," Farrier replied, nonchalant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHELP. Musie and I thought we had a plan...and so we began to write on said plan, buuuuuut...then we realized we still actually have no idea what we're doing. SO...................................we wrote a chapter, decided it was shit, scrapped it, and then started over and now we present you... _this_. Just trust that this was better than the first idea. LOL. That's about all I can say. Still trying to work out how I can get to the ending I have in mind though. No idea how many more chapters I'll need to get there, either. One day at a time, I suppose!

The weeks seemed to go by in a blur.  Collins could hardly believe how many changes he'd experienced in his daily life in such a short span of time.

Currently at work, Collins' attention was split as his mind couldn't help wandering a bit as he worked.  _The first thing that had gotten upended had been his living situation_. 

Collins didn't notice his hands halt in their movements, and he most certainly didn't realize he would appear to be in a daze.   He thought back to the morning after he'd returned home from helping his friend Rudy with his article.  There had been the phone call, and then what followed had been chaos.

* * *

Collins had peeked through the curtains, pulling them back only a fraction this time—just enough to be able to see what was going on without showing his face.  The window muffled the shouts from below, but he could still hear the excitement of the crowd, and the flashing.  Just before his phone rang, Collins noticed a black car pulling up a short distance behind the distracted paparazzi.  When his phone buzzed with the sound of his friend's incoming call, Collins quickly dropped the curtain and turned to answer it.

"Holy _shit_ , Rudy...!" Collins had hissed into the phone. 

 _"And a top o' the morning to you too, kid!"_ Rudy said in his best impression of an Irish accent, rather jovially.  It was inappropriately cheery, in Collins' opinion, given the situation. 

"Now's not the time for joking, Rupert," Collins said, lips turned down in a disapproving frown. 

 _"Oh ho!  He's cross again,"_ said Rudy.

" _Damn it_ , man!  _Of course_ I'm cross!" Collins said, shaking his head.  "Nobody wants their face splattered all over the tabloids!"

 _"Should o' thought of that before you let the man kiss you!"_ Rudy said with a light laugh.

Collins closed his eyes, tilted his head back slightly and groaned.  " _Clearly_ I didn't think things through."

 _"Oh, I wouldn't beat myself up over it if I were you,"_ said Rudy.

"And how's that?" asked Collins.

 _"You're a philistine, Jimmy!"_ Rudy said with a laugh.  _"Any other bloke or lass would o' been glad for the news coverage—you, on the other hand, had no idea o' the kind of noise your impromptu actions were going to be making.  And I do have to say, Jimmy, you did surprise me with your spontaneity."_

"Believe me, no one was more surprised than I," Collins muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair, his lips recalling the zing he'd felt when Farrier's lips had brushed against his.

 _"Sorry, what was that?"_ Rudy asked.  _"I didn't quite catch it."_

"Nothing," Collins said, shaking his head.  "I saw your car outside.  Are you—?"

 _"Right.  That,"_ said Rudy.  _"Hope you've got yourself some sunglasses and a baseball cap?  A hoodie too, would be nice.  Oh, and a face mask."_

Collins paled.  "Are you implying that I'm going to have to charge out into... _that_ _?_ " he asked, referring to the crowd camped outside.

 _"Well, how else do you expect we're going to get you out of there, mate?"_ Rudy asked.  _"It's not like I've got a copter or anything to land on your roof with.  That would honestly be your best bet out at this point; they've got the whole place surrounded.  And believe me, I've checked.  Did a whole circle around this joint before pulling up out front."_

Collins grit his teeth.  " _Point_ ," he said, rummaging through his closet.  "I haven't a face mask, though."

_"Try a scarf."_

"This is ridiculous..." Collins said, shaking his head and laughing a bit to himself.  Not because he found it funny, but he couldn't believe the situation he was in.  "It's not even remotely the correct season."

_"Hey, got to do what you have to."_

Collins fit on what his brain mildly noted as 'escape gear.'  Collins shook his head again.

"I'm losing my mind..." he mumbled.

_"What's that?"_

"Nothing.  Coming out," Collins said, pulling down on the visor of his cap.  "I'm going to hang up now...m'afraid of losing my phone."

 _"Yeah, probably for the best, that,"_ Rudy agreed.  _"Pick a direction and just go straight, all right?  I'll do my best to grab you as soon as I see you, and shove you in the back of the car."_

"They haven't noticed you yet?" Collins asked.

 _"No, but they will, I'm sure,"_ said Rudy. 

"Couldn't you clear a path for me?"

Rudy scoffed.  _"And get myself trampled by the masses?"_ he said.  _"Look, I would, Jimmy, if I weren't just one man.  Best I can do is stand at the edge; pull you on out."_

Collins stopped at his front door.  "You'll leave me to be the lone salmon fighting against the current?" he asked dryly.

 _"Though I'm flattered you have so much faith in my ability to reenact the Acts of Moses,"_ said Rudy.  _"There's no way I can, with a single hand, part this crowd, mate.  This ain't The Bodyguard."_

"You're an utter crackpot, Rupert," Collins said, shaking his head.

 _"Who's bloody tryin' to save you, damn it!"_ said Rudy.

"I don't even know if I'll have time to lock the door behind me..." Collins said, worried.

 _"Shit...didn't think about that,"_ Rudy admitted.  _"Wouldn't be good if they raided the place."_

"Why can't they make automatic locks for homes like they do on cars?" Collins groaned.

 _"They probably do,"_ said Rudy.  _"But it's not like the everyman can afford 'em."_

"Right...right," Collins said, holding his keys in one hand.  "All right, well...I'm about to pop out."

 _"Godspeed, gentleman,"_ said Rudy.

Collins winced then, a ringing started up in his ears.  " _Shit_..." he murmured.

One of his standing dreams, again.  There didn't appear to be any rhyme nor reason to them, Collins found, although certain words did seem to trigger them. 

_A flash of a bomber jacket.  The familiar voice who Collins immediately recognized was the same as the man from that dreamlike house._

_"Keep your wits about you," the man gruffly ordered._

"Mm..." Collins groaned softly, closing his eyes.

Rudy's voice sounded worried, though distant in his ear.  _"Oi...!  You there, Jimmy?  You doin' alright?"_

"M'fine..." Collins said, voice rather faint.  "Just fine...I'm on my way out."

_"All right..."_

Collins hung up the phone and slipped the cellular into his pocket before resting that same hand on the doorknob.  He took in a short breath.

"Right, then..." Collins murmured to himself.  "Here we go...!"

 _It was like listening to thunder erupt right within a cloud_ , Collins thought, feeling immediately dizzy and disoriented upon being greeted with all the shouts and flashes of light.  He turned around and barely managed to lock up behind him before he felt himself being pulled backwards into the ongoing clamor.  Collins wasn't proud to admit it, but he felt himself on the verge of a panic attack. 

"Straight line, and get out...straight line, and get _out_..." Collins mumbled to himself, holding his hands to his hat and the scarf around his face, hoping desperately to keep the last shreds of his privacy.

He nearly fell into hysterics; Collins had always held a distaste for crowded places, and his current predicament was no exception to that aversion.  Panic flooded him when he felt a strong grip around his arm pull him forcefully out, and it was only after realizing he was looking at the face of his friend Rudy did the relief flood into his entire being.  Rudy, on the other hand, seemed to be on high alert.

"Don't relax _now_ , mate!" Rudy said, tugging Collins along towards the car.  "We've got to get you in the bloody car, first!  And keep your head down!"

Collins didn't have to be told twice.  As if he'd been activated, the blonde scrambled into the back of the car and pushed his cap down further on his face, his chest rising and falling with his harsh breathing.  He barely heard his friend pop into the front on the driver's side, or the sound of doors locking, shortly followed by a series of honks.

"GET OUT OF THE DAMN WAY, YOU BASTARDS!" Rudy shouted, laying his hand on the horn.

Keeping a foot on the brake, Rudy revved the engine.  Eventually, the masses seemed to get the message and parted, just enough for them to push through.  Collins might have laughed at the way Rudy was so angry; it was a rare thing for the other man to lose his temper.  All Collins could feel then, though, was exhaustion. 

Once they were cleared away from the press, Collins heaved out a huge sigh and slumped in the backseat.  Removing his sunglasses, he met Rudy's gaze in the rear view mirror.  His friend half-smiled.

"Sorry, mate," said Rudy.  "But looks like you'll be stuck shacking up with me a while."

Collins nodded, feeling a bit numb.  He pulled back his hoodie, kept the cap on, but removed the scarf.

"And how long, do you suspect, till I can come back home again?" he asked, although something told him he might not like the answer to that question. 

He wasn't surprised at the apologetic glance his friend gave.  "We'll figure it out, mate," said Rudy. 

Collins had sighed and slumped in his seat. 

* * *

_"James!"_

Collins blinked.  It was then he realized that his arms were a little stiff; he'd apparently been holding them in place for who knows how long.  He turned in the direction of the voice.  It was his boss who had snapped him out of his reverie.

"You doing all right there?" the man asked him, a slight frown creasing his features.

Collins nodded.  "F-fine!" he said, offering his superior a sheepish expression.

The other man moved closer until he was within listening range of only Collins and dropped his voice down.  "Listen," he said.  "I know you've been in the papers lately..."

Collins grimaced.  His superior went on.

"Long as you continue to work hard, we won't have any problems," the man promised.  "But the first sign of trouble; a dip in your efforts—"

"I know," Collins said, nodding again.  "I'll stay focused on my tasks, sir."

"Good," his boss said with a nod himself, clapping a hand on the blonde's shoulder.  "Because it would be a shame to lose you, James.  You do good work here."

"Yes, sir," Collins replied as he resumed his work with greater concentration than before.

It was surprisingly difficult.  Collins' thoughts kept wandering towards the other man, and each time he did, a flash of heat spread across his upper back.  It wasn't painful, but it wasn't comfortable, either.  Collins found himself brushing his fingers over the area he could reach, between his shoulder blades.  The skin was warm to the touch.  He made an internal note to examine the area later; he wondered if he was developing a strange sort of rash or something.

When his shift ended, it felt like it couldn't have come soon enough.  Collins quickly packed his things and made for the exit.  If he hadn't lived his life so quietly and under the radar up until that point, he might have perhaps noticed the uneasiness in the atmosphere of his workplace lately; the hushed whispers about him behind his back and the glances that were occasionally tossed his way, especially when he got a little too lost in his own thoughts.  Whether this would lead to trouble or something else, only time would tell. 

* * *

Meanwhile, Farrier was in the midst of changing his outfit for the last time that day in his trailer.  There were a few scenes left to shoot that afternoon, and Farrier was antsy to be through with them, not because he tired of having to act, but because he and Collins had agreed to meet after both their work hours were over. This had happened sometime after his previous photo shoot, when Farrier had taken Collins away from curious staff members, some of whom he had no doubt were fishing for an exclusive to sell to the tabloids.  They were good people, for the most part, but still Farrier knew that not everyone in the business could be trusted to resist temptation and shy away from earning a quick buck from selling some juicy insider information.  As someone who had been in the public eye for quite some time, Farrier hardly noticed the flashing of cameras and didn't give much thought to the nonsensical articles that were written about him sometimes, especially when he had been seeing that Amanda Fairbanks. 

Any other person might have been keen, perhaps, Farrier thought, to take advantage of the situation and bask in all the attention.  Collins though, Farrier had been able to tell almost immediately when they'd first met, held no such interests and appeared to be very much a person who liked to keep to himself.  Farrier couldn't tell if it was the blonde's timidity or something else that he couldn't quite place his finger on.

As he peeled off one outfit and got ready to fit on another, he experienced feelings of heat and tenderness to his chest area, like he was recovering from a sunburn.  Frowning, Farrier decided to make his way to the bathroom to check it out before he would put on his shirt.  As soon as he went in, he took a look at himself in the mirror, and his eyes widened slightly upon seeing what appeared to be a line of bruising across his chest.  

"Mm...that can't be good," Farrier mumbled quietly to himself as he ran his fingers along the line.  

It wasn't necessarily painful, but it did sting a bit where the discoloration was.  Farrier sighed.  He had no idea how he'd injured himself, but he hoped that it would heal before his next photo shoot.  Nothing a little Photoshop couldn't cure, but Farrier knew those were extra steps no one really wanted.  Tucking that concern away for the time being, Farrier put on his top and made his way out of the trailer.

Filming in the afternoon, Farrier was just going through the motions.  As distracted as he was, he still managed to get through a majority of the scenes with only a few retakes each time. 

When Collins finally arrived on set, Farrier somehow sensed the other man's presence before actually seeing him.  It took him several moments, but Farrier eventually spotted Collins, who was hanging back and looking rather uncertain.  Someone had set up a chair for him and Collins was sitting there, looking rather out of place, a bottle of water held between his clasped hands.  Farrier chuckled softly to himself at the way the blonde's posture straightened as he drew closer to Collins.  It was like a feeling of pressure being released, and neither man knew the other felt the same way about it.

"You came," Farrier murmured quietly, when he'd gotten close enough for the other man to hear.

His heart fluttered at the shy smile Collins gave him.  "We had plans," the blonde said with a small shrug.  "...did we not?"

"We do," Farrier confirmed, enjoying the way the blonde's breath hitched as he drew closer to him.  "How was work?"

"F-fine," Collins said, cheeks dusting a light pink.  Farrier noticed the way the man's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed down his lump of nervousness.  "How, um...how was filming...?"

"Nothing I haven't done before," Farrier replied, nonchalant. 

He held back from burying his face against the other man's neck, although the temptation was alarmingly great.  He had no idea how the other man would take it, if he did.  Farrier found the whole thing surprising, too, how despite still being mostly strangers, he felt so connected to the other individual.  Farrier wasn't exactly a man of foul moods, but he found that his days instantly felt brighter whenever Collins was a part of them.  However, much to Farrier's dismay, Collins wasn't exactly an easy read, and the actor was often left wondering how the other might be feeling about him.  Had Farrier realized the other man was going through a similar state of internal conflict, he might have been able to resolve things between them rather easily.  Unfortunately for the pair of them, this was real life absent the simple solutions often offered by romantic movies. 

Collins wasn't sure whether Farrier realized how often he brought his face close to the other man's, but every time he did so, the blonde felt as if his lips were zinging.  This tingling sensation, coupled with what Collins believed to be a misplaced and perhaps even perverse desire to suddenly catch the other man's lips with his own was often the reason for the blonde's flustered state.  At the same time Farrier had wanted to bury his face in the blonde's neck, Collins had wanted to cross his wrists behind the actor's neck and nip at the other man's lower lip.  It made Collins feel rather admittedly guilty, especially since he recalled the actor's distaste for anyone who acted starstruck around him.  _But how could they not?_   Collins wanted to protest.  The man was undeniably captivating. 

Especially when he smiled, like the way Farrier was doing so now.  Moments like these made it so easy for Collins to forget that despite the appearances he was currently under contract to keep, this was still a business arrangement and he would be delusional to think that Farrier was feeling the same way as he.  The fact that Farrier could elicit such a myriad of natural emotions out of him, however, made Collins think that despite only having caught mere glimpses of the other man's work so far, he was certain that the other man was, without a doubt, an incredibly talented actor. 

He missed the way Farrier's eyes lingered on his lips, when Collins flicked out his tongue to moisten them.  The blonde sucked in a shallow breath.

"Um..."

Farrier cut in before Collins could finish his attempt in formulating a coherent sentence.  "Are you hungry, then?" he asked.

Collins fidgeted a bit in his seat.  "I, uh...I did think that that's what our plans were, or at least...that's how I understood them to be," he said softly.  "So I came here, straight from work..."

"And you were right to do so," Farrier said with a smile.  "But I just wanted to make sure.  Well then, since I'm all wrapped up here for now...shall we go?"

Collins nodded.  "Sure," he said.  "I suppose you already have a place in mind?"

Farrier smiled.  "As a matter of fact, I do," he said with a nod before holding out a hand for Collins to accept.  "I hope you don't mind French cuisine...?"

"Not at all," Collins reassured, blushing a bit as he tentatively held out one of his hands, fingertips gliding over Farrier's palm.  He jumped a little when the other man clasped his hand around them.  "O-oh..."

"I wish you'd be more comfortable with me touching you, dove," Farrier murmured softly as he ran his thumb gently across the midsection of Collins' fingers in his hand.  "We are supposed to be madly in love with each other, after all, and rather familiar, in fact."

"I-I'm s-sorry," Collins stammered a bit, his cheeks turning even more red.  "I just suppose I didn't want to be overstepping any bounds..."

"Nonsense, darling," Farrier said, tugging Collins' hand gently, but with enough firmness to indicate that he wanted the other man to stand.  Collins did so.  Farrier smiled.  "I highly doubt that there's anything you could do that I would find to be off-putting."

"Oh,  _you two_...!  Get a room!" one of the staff members on Farrier's film teased as she passed by.

To Farrier's pleasant surprise, Collins reacted to this perfectly, his instincts causing him to react to the well-meaning jab by closing what little remained of the gap between them; the blonde pushed his face against the actor's shoulder and groaned softly.  " _Oh_...I could _die here_...!" he murmured, not meaning for anyone to hear.

Farrier couldn't help but to chuckle at this.  He felt the temperature of the blonde's face rise as he took advantage of their position and pushed the other man even closer to him, a hand resting against the small of the blonde man's back.  And, enjoying himself way more than the other man was, he first pressed their cheeks together, and then gave the blonde man a rather affectionate peck after whispering the following words into his ear.

_"I won't fault you for enjoying yourself a little, darling."_

* * *

Collins couldn't tell if the warm sensation between his shoulder blades was a hot flash of nervousness or something he should check up on with a doctor.  That thought went away, however, when the waiter came by to ask him and Farrier for their orders, which they each placed.  Collins could still hardly believe this was his new reality now, contract or no, and he felt as if all eyes in the room were on them.  He wouldn't have been too far off the mark; Farrier's agent had made sure to leak their location to a few celeb coverage mags, and there were quite a few of those writers present, trying to get a scoop on them.  Despite knowing his function, Collins didn't know why he felt a twinge of disappointment at the thought that perhaps this was all just an elaborate setup for publicity reasons.

That thought, however, ended up floating away from him too, when Farrier placed a warm hand over one of his.  When Collins met the other man's gaze, he was surprised by what appeared to be genuine concern reflected in the other man's eyes.

"Hey..." Farrier murmured softly.  "You okay?"

"Fine!" Collins tried to assure, wincing a bit at how tightly the word had come out.

He blushed when he felt Farrier hook a foot around his ankle.  "I'm sorry, dove," the actor murmured softly, honestly apologetic towards the other.  "I had asked for a private moment between us, but apparently we are to seize all opportunities as they come."

"It's all right," Collins said quietly back with a nod.  "I mean, isn't that the point to all this?  Appearances?"

Farrier couldn't help but frown a little.  "I would prefer you to be more comfortable with me," he said, clasping the other man's hand a bit more firmly now.

Collins' heart fluttered.  The heat on the upper part of his back seemed to swell.

"I'll do better," he promised. 

He squeezed the other man's hand back before Farrier's frown could deepen.  Collins chuckled softly. 

"Now, now," he tutted, almost playfully, mildly surprising them both.  "Wouldn't do if people thought we were having a disagreement now, would we...?"

Farrier chuckled quietly at that.  "Quite right..." he murmured, running his thumb along the back of the blonde man's hand.  "Shall we make the most of this, then?"

Collins tilted his head slightly to one side.  "How do you mean?" he asked.

Farrier's response was interrupted by the waiter returning with their ordered meals, so instead the man brought up the other man's hand and pressed his lips against the blonde's knuckles, causing Collins to flush for probably the millionth time since they'd started this arrangement.  Farrier smiled.  Keeping his eyes locked with the blonde's, he tilted his chin only slightly, addressing their waiter. 

"A bottle of your finest wine, _s'il vous plaît_ ," Farrier requested.

Their waiter gave a slight bow to accompany his response.  " _Bien sur, monsieur_ ," he replied, saying that he of course would.  "Right away."

" _Merci_ ," said Farrier.

Collins didn't know why he felt so amused.  He quirked a brow.

"You speak French?" he asked.

"Only functionally," Farrier said with a wink.  "We actors sometimes need to pick up other languages, here and there.  Sometimes for roles, other times for traveling."

Collins nodded, forgetting for a moment his embarrassment at the fact that their hands were still clasped.  "I'm impressed."

"I'm glad," Farrier said honestly.  "I've been hoping to leave a good impression on you."

"I can't say I understand why," Collins said, shaking his head slightly.  "I'm just an ordinary man."

"If you believe you've no merits, then you truly are a fool, Jim," Farrier said, and Collins didn't know what to do about the way his heart felt like it was doing a series of back flips. 

"I wish you wouldn't do that..." Collins said, ducking his head.

Not that it would hide the unmistakable signs of his embarrassment; his face was, as per usual, quite red.  Farrier raised a brow in question.

"Do _what_ , darling?" he asked.

"Confuse me," Collins said, his response almost automatic; Farrier couldn't be certain whether the other realized he had said it or not, though judging from the fact that the blonde didn't seem to grow increasingly flustered after having said it, he took on a hunch that the other man probably wasn't aware of what he'd just said.

"And how am I doing that, dove?" Farrier tested.

The slight frown that creased Collins' features was confirmation enough, though it was further cemented by the response.  "Sorry...what?"

Farrier chuckled softly.  The wine, shortly thereafter, arrived.  Before Collins could question him again, Farrier took the first glass the waiter poured for them and used his free hand to offer it to the blonde.

"Drink this, darling," Farrier said, taking the second poured glass after Collins accepted the one he had offered him.  "Loosen yourself up a bit."

He tilted his glass a bit Collins' way.  The blonde half-smiled and allowed his glass to clink against Farrier's.  The actor then lifted his glass slightly upward. 

"Cheers, then," said Farrier.

Collins gave a short nod, holding up his own glass the same way before bringing it back to his lips.  "Cheers."

* * *

Farrier couldn't have planned the ending to their night any better.  The bottle of wine, of course, had been an intended distraction, and it did indeed serve its meant for purpose.  Farrier wouldn't say that they were piss-roaring drunk, by any means.  Although Collins, at the very least, was now in a place where he was a lot less self-conscious about where exactly Farrier placed his hands on him, as well as where he placed his _own_ hands.  One of which was currently entwined with one of Farrier's own, which the actor of course didn't mind.  In fact, he was rather pleased by this, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that his agent's plan was working rather well.  Farrier had noticed several of the reporters following them several feet behind as he and Collins stumbled along together.  Supposedly they were looking for Farrier's car, but the actor had already resolved that he and Collins would be taking a cab back to his hotel room.  He'd already texted his agent about it, and she had replied that she would instead a black car their way.  Farrier didn't really care much for the details in that moment; all he could focus on was the fact that he now had the happy responsibility of keeping Collins preoccupied until their ride came for them.

At some point, Collins had somehow hooked his fingers into the pockets of Farrier's dress pants, and the blonde laughed as he pulled the other man along with him, staggering back unintentionally until his back smacked against a wall.  Farrier had just barely managed to place a hand behind the blonde's head, to keep it from doing the same.  This meant they were in a rather intimate sort of position, of course, and Farrier really couldn't have orchestrated the whole thing any better.  He smiled and brought his face in a bit closer.  He enjoyed the way Collins' face seemed to grow more flushed, and he bit back his nervousness when he noticed the way the haze seemed to lift suddenly from the blonde's eyes as he started to sober.  Eventually, the air between them was hushed, with just the sound of their light, ragged breaths interrupting the otherwise still atmosphere.  Farrier's eyes dropped immediately to the blonde's lips, unable to ignore the way Collins worried part of the lower one with his teeth.  He enjoyed hearing the other man gasp, softly as Farrier brought a thumb up to the man's lower lips and dragging it straight across.

"Gods, you drive me mad..." Farrier murmured, though Collins was suddenly feeling too dizzy to properly process the admission. 

When Farrier trailed his other thumb across the blonde's brow, Collins couldn't help sucking in a short breath; the touch feeling like sheer electricity, rippling across.  His pupils became dilated with lust, and his cheeks warmed with shame because of it.  _The man was just too good in his role_ , Collins thought, trying not to feel too bitter towards himself for being so easily captivated by the other man's performance.  And as tipsy as he was, he was rapidly losing the comfort that came with the buzz from it. 

What came next was a choice, which Collins was presented with, when Farrier placed his cool forehead against his contrast of warmth.  The actor's lips hovered dangerously close to his own, and Collins felt his eyes cross a bit as he tried to focus on _something_ other than how publicly intimate they were being.  He was soon effectively distracted by his strong desire to close the remaining gap between them to worry about the fact that this private moment between them wasn't really private, and that there were plenty of thirsty opportunists watching them, prepared with flash and lenses. 

"Are you coherent...?" Farrier asked softly.

Collins nodded before giving his response, in a tone that was just as hushed.  "I am," he said, his breaths still somewhat shallow.  "Why do you ask...?"

Farrier's reply was all the more quiet.  The man closed his eyes and angled his lips closer.

"I do not wish to wrongfully take advantage of you..." he whispered.

Collins' eyes slowly fluttered shut as well, and he tilted up his chin.  "Truthfully, I could say the same thing as well..."

It wasn't clear who crushed whose lips, but it didn't matter.  Soon they were  _kissing_ , and Collins felt as if that space between his shoulder blades was burning like fire.  Farrier, of course, could say the same thing about the space across his chest.  Neither man would remember when they finally parted from each other, nor when they eventually tumbled into the car that Farrier's agent had sent for them.  Collins was sure Farrier was going to stop their making out once they were out of public view, but he gave no complaints when it appeared that the other man was keen to continue in the back seat of their ride.  Collins felt as if his heart were about to thump out of his chest as their tongues continued to war with each other; his whole body shivered when Farrier, whose lap he had somehow settled in, threaded one of his hands through the blonde's hair, then soon running it along the side of his face, then down further still down to the side of one of the man's legs.  To his shame, at one point, Collins moaned and whimpered into the other man's mouth; he gasped when he felt blood start to rush to a place where he most certainly hadn't planned to _feel_ anything.  That's when he pulled back, horrified.  Farrier, on the other hand, appeared hazy and confused.

"What...?  What is it, pet...?" he murmured, caressing Collins' cheek.  "Is everything all right...?"

Collins tried to concentrate on making his breathing sound less harsh.  It wasn't exactly working, although he was able to calm more blood from flowing to his nether regions, much to his great relief.  _Everything's fine_ , he meant to say aloud, but he instead gave a different reply, fingertips brushing tenderly against Farrier's cheek, surprising them both.

"The camera's have stopped..." Collins whispered, his expression equally soft.

A brief pause settled between them.  The atmosphere had gotten so quiet in the car that despite the sounds of rumbling coming from both the asphalt and the engine, both men could have sworn that one could still hear a pin drop.  Finally, Farrier moistened his lips and nodded, conceding reluctantly.

"And so they have..." he murmured, releasing his hold on Collins so that the other man could move to sit comfortably beside him instead.

The air was a bit awkward between them after that, and perhaps even a little bit cold.  Both men were displeased by it, but neither were sure just how to go about remedying it, although a third party might have noted that the answer was, of course, very simple.  Just neither of them were considering it.

They were back to the idea of needing to play their respective parts by the time they were dropped in front of Farrier's hotel building, and as a result their interactions with each other as they entered the hotel were a bit more uncertain and stiff.  Farrier had reached out his hand, and Collins was afraid to offer anything more than just his fingertips, which the actor did clasp his own hand around, tugging the blonde man behind him.  They eventually made it into Farrier's hotel room, and fortunately for their current situation, it was a suite containing two beds.  Wordlessly they somehow agreed upon who would wash up first—Collins—and by the time Farrier popped out from his turn in the shower, he saw that the blonde had already settled under his own covers and appeared to be sound asleep from where he stood.  The truth of the matter was, Collins was still wide awake, and would be for the better part of that evening, but he did his best to hide this fact by burying his face under the covers, praying Farrier wouldn't call him out on his bluff.

The man didn't, of course, and Farrier soon eventually switched off all the lights and settled under the covers himself on the opposite mattress.  Both men lay there, wide awake, unbeknownst to each that the other was just as conscious.  Though later on, at some point, the pair soon grew drowsy and each would slowly drift on off to sleep, filling the room with the sounds of rhythmic, peaceful breathing.


	5. Then, There's That First Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's strange..." Farrier murmured.
> 
> "...what is?" Collins inquired softly.
> 
> Farrier momentarily paused. "We barely know each other, and yet..."
> 
> Collins didn't know why he suddenly felt the need to hold his breath; like he was anticipating something. "...and yet?" he whispered.
> 
> His heart fluttered when Farrier squeezed his hand again. "I, just...I somehow feel so comfortable around you."
> 
> Collins didn't know why that response disappointed him, but it did. He swallowed that feeling down, however, and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite _still_ trying to figure out some things for this story, I have a lot more confidence in writing this now, and it's really thanks to all the supporters of this story. I hope that you all continue to enjoy, and bear with me as I try to lock down how many more chapters I'll need before reaching the conclusion this fic was always meant to have.
> 
> After that, I'll see about posting that 1940s sequel to my first two _Dunkirk_ fics, and I believe I had one other request from a reader or two, but I don't recall now. I'm going to have to sift back through my comments and Tumblr account. After all that, then those will probably be my last contributions to this fandom and pairing, at least for a while, anyway, until further inspiration hits. I do have other fics (on this name and others) that desperately need concluding, so I aim to do that next before I start anything else new.
> 
> OH. And I think I've FINALLY figured out a name worth tacking on to Farrier's agent. Hope you all don't mind it. Seems to fit for me, at any rate. Anyway, enough ramble, I know. We press on!!

In his dream, Farrier experienced severe difficulties breathing.  It wasn't death though, however, that he feared.  Rather, to his surprise, he was afraid for the old man beside him.  He couldn't quite make out the man's face, but he could see the man's weathered hands, shaking a bit as they reached out towards him.  One gently brushed his hair back from his forehead, and the minute the other man spoke, Farrier knew at once that he was crying, or at the very least trying his best to put on a brace face; to hold back his tears.

 _"Hush now, Hugh..."_ the man whispered, voice raspy.   _"I'm all right...I'll be all right...it's all right...!"_

Only it wasn't, Farrier somehow knew, and he felt an overwhelming sense of sorriness over it.  Then the panic set in, as soon as he started to feel as if he were losing his grasp on consciousness.  He felt the sudden urge to just thrash about, to do _something_ just so he wouldn't just leave this man, this stranger who at the same time didn't feel like much of a stranger at all; as if doing so would keep him awake a bit longer.

And was sure the man was openly sobbing now, and Farrier felt awful for it. He felt his heart clench with sorrow as he heard the pain in the other man's voice.

"It's _all right_ , Hugh...!  You've more than paid your dues," the man said, voice cracking a little.  "Don't fight it, darling...don't fight it, love.  You rest now, _rest_..."

 _But he didn't want to rest, damn it!_  Farrier wanted to scream.  He couldn't explain why, but he was worried, just _oh so worried_ , about succumbing to the darkness; about leaving this other poor man behind.

 _He just didn't want to leave the other man behind._  Farrier forced himself to gasp for air.

"No, _no_ , my darling...!" the other man begged him.  " _Please_...!  Don't struggle so hard...you and I know it's better this way.  Didn't we talk about this before, love?  It hurts me, yes, but it would hurt me more if there was none left to look after you... _Hugh_.  It's all right...it's all right...I'll be fine."

There was the hand again, threading gently through his hair, and it was _just so heartbreaking_ , the way this man was so gentle with him.  Farrier felt as if he could touch the light of the other man's soul.  It was getting even harder to breathe now.  Farrier tried to squeeze back on the man's other hand, which was clasped lightly around his.  He wished that he had the strength to lift the hand though, to wipe at the tears that he was sure was streaming freely down the other man's face.

"We'll see each other in the next life, darling..." the man murmured, as at last, Farrier found that he could fight the loss of consciousness no more.  "And I hope that next time, you won't have to live your days in so much pain.  I hope that we could be together without having to carry with us so much shame, and it will all be so much better, yes...?"

 _Yes_ , Farrier wanted to so desperately say, but couldn't, and it was driving him mad.   _Yes, oh a thousand times, yes_ , he wanted to tell the other man, but instead he felt the crushing weight of his lungs collapsing within him as he fought to take in that one last breath.  Farrier felt like a huge weight was crushing around him, like he was sinking to the bottom of the ocean and he was losing the fight to shoot back up to the surface.  

"I'll find you again, love..." the man whispered, his voice so small, so _broken_.  "I _promise_."

Then, Farrier's vision went black.  There was nothingness.

* * *

Farrier woke up screaming and thrashing about.  His mind flooded with panic upon feeling resistance, and it took him seconds to realize that someone was speaking to him; that there was someone _on_ him, trying to calm him down.  It took him several more moments to realize that the light had been thrown on, and that a pair of sea-green eyes were looking worriedly into his own.  _Collins_ , he realized.  

"Hey...!  Hey, Hugh...!  _Hugh_...!" the blonde said, looking frightened; he was breathing harshly, hands clasped around the section of Farrier's arms between his shoulders and elbows. 

Farrier had a wild look to his eyes, although upon registering that it was Collins in front of him, he slowly began to calm.  The blonde nodded, his voice gentle and soothing, trying his best to keep from spooking Farrier.

"Shhh, it's all right..." he murmured.  "You were just having a nightmare, is all, all right?  You're okay.  It's okay.  Everything is going to be okay..."

Collins didn't know it, but Farrier was experiencing something similar to the flashes he'd been having for the better portion of his adult life.  The blonde's words and the words of the elderly man in Farrier's dream somewhat seemed to be blurring together.  Eventually, Farrier was able to compose himself, and moved himself up into a sitting position.  Collins, too, seemed to relax when the other man did, and heaved out a sigh of relief, settling down on the edge of the bed.  Farrier caught him by the wrist before he could pull his hand away.  Understanding the need for touch after a terrible dream, Collins let the other man hang onto him.  The blonde's other hand rested on his own knee, and he regarded Farrier with eyes still reflecting a fair bit of concern.  He wanted to comfort, but he felt that he didn't have the right words, nor did he find it appropriate to ask.  He had no way of knowing if the other man was comfortable discussing what had just happened, after all.

After a while, Farrier was the one who ended up breaking the silence.  "Thank you..." he murmured quietly.

Collins nodded.  "Can I...?" he began a bit hesitantly.  He licked his lips, unsure as to why he felt so nervous.  "Can I do anything...?  For you?  I mean...I don't know what I can do, but—"

"—stay with me," Farrier said, somewhat abrupt. 

Collins blinked.  His brows seemed to dance a bit in confusion.

"I... _what_...?  I'm...we're already in the same room," he said, shaking his head, not quite understanding what the other man was requesting.  "I'm afraid I don't know how much more present I can be..."

" _Here_..." Farrier said, nodding downward once, hoping Collins would catch his meaning  _now_ , about being in bed with him.  " _With_ me."

It was rather forward of him to proposition like that, Farrier knew, and at risk of being off-putting to the other man.  On the blonde's end, Collins realized that the whole thing should have felt more uncomfortable than it was, but then several thoughts ran through his head.  _They've already kissed now_ —and rather passionately, in fact— _twice_ , Collins reasoned.  _And second_ , Collins thought to himself, _he understood_ , somehow, what it was Farrier was _really_ asking.  It wasn't sex—no, nothing of the sort; Collins could tell.  The other man was just asking for something Collins had often wished for himself, many a time, when he was overwhelmed by flashes of images he just didn't understand.

He knew he'd read the other man right when Farrier looked visibly relieved, upon Collins nodding his assent.  The actor moved over to make room, and Collins slowly slipped under the covers beside him.  Soon, Farrier moved back down so he was lying on his side, facing Collins, and the pair stared at each other for a while, neither man talking.  Then, eventually, this time Collins was the one who spoke first.

"Is this all right?" he asked.

Farrier nodded.  "Fine."

He looked at Collins curiously when the other man shifted.  The blonde gave him a half-smile, somewhat sheepish.

"Um...come to think of it, we should probably switch off the light," he said.

Farrier blinked at first, and then he chuckled a bit, nodding as well.  "Right," he murmured softly.  "That would probably help us get some shut-eye in, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, I reckon it would," Collins said before sliding out of bed for a spell, just so he could shut the lights off. 

He then crawled back into bed beside Farrier, his breathing a bit shallow.  Now dark, his eyes needed some time to adjust to it.  Slowly, unconsciously, he moved his hand closer to Farrier's direction.  His breath hitched softly when he felt the other man entwine his fingers with his.  Collins' cheeks grew heated, like he'd been caught in some dirty act.  Farrier, somehow, seemed to sense this and squeezed the other man's hand in assurance.

"I'm asking so much of you, aren't I...?" Farrier asked, hushed.

Collins shook his head, though a bit unsure as to whether the other man could see.  "I don't mind," he replied, and it was the truth, he didn't.

The other man squeezed his hand gently.  "It's strange..." Farrier murmured.

"...what is?" Collins inquired softly.

Farrier momentarily paused.  "We barely know each other, and yet..."

Collins didn't know why he suddenly felt the need to hold his breath; like he was anticipating something.  "...and yet?" he whispered.

His heart fluttered when Farrier squeezed his hand again.  "I, just...I somehow feel so comfortable around you."

Collins didn't know why that response disappointed him, but it did.  He swallowed that feeling down, however, and nodded.

"Well, we _have_ been acting like a couple for a bit," he said, his words feeling a bit more hollow to him than he'd meant for them to be.  "Perhaps it's just one of those...you know...social experiment type of things that they post on the Internet...?"

Farrier quirked up a brow at that.  "What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"Well, _you know_..." Collins mumbled, wriggling a bit uncomfortably under the covers.  "There's videos people have posted about things like how sometimes total strangers can feel closer to one another after doing things like...well...kissing and so on.  Being affectionate and such."

"Ah."

"Yeah..."

"Mm."

Collins grimaced.  Had the lights been on, he would have seen that Farrier was merely contemplating and not disapproving of the blonde man's theory.  After a moment, it was Farrier who broke the silence that had fallen between them again.

"...whatever the case may be," Farrier said, tone careful.  "Know that I don't mind it."

Collins, this time, squeezed the other man's hand back, unconsciously.  There was a slight upward twitch to one of the corners of his lips.

"Nor I," he whispered.

* * *

Something changed, between them, after that evening; something unspoken.  At the first rays of sunlight, Farrier stirred and was soon awake first.  After blinking his eyes a bit, adjusting to the brightness, Farrier saw that at some point, Collins had gotten cradled between his arms, and the blonde was still sleeping quite soundly between them.  Farrier regarded him fondly, and sometime thereafter realized, while his mind was wandering, that he was certain he'd just had the best sleep of his life in _years_.  And as for Collins, well, he too had similar thoughts cross his mind when he finally started to wake himself. 

Farrier couldn't help but to tense slightly.  _He_ didn't mind where Collins had eventually settled at some point during the course of the evening, but Farrier knew that the other man was quite skittish around him still, and he was concerned that the other man _di_ _d_ find their current entanglement to be rather alarming.  Fortunately though, that didn't seem to be the case, for shortly after Collins' eyes fluttered open, the other man slowly offered Farrier the shyest of smiles. 

"Good morning..." Collins murmured.

Farrier felt like a downright schoolboy, the way he wanted to hoot and holler at such a simply offered greeting.  He didn't bother to hold back a smile of his own.

"Morning, Jim," he replied, and reveled in the way the other man blushed.

 _I did that_ , he thought to himself, and nudged the other man closer to him, using one hand he'd planted against the small of Collins' back.  Only adding to his delight, Collins simply followed the suggestion, and didn't fight it.  Farrier wished it didn't feel so out of place to kiss him, despite their intimacy.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Like I haven't in years," Collins said, and Farrier nodded in agreement.

"I could say the same thing," he said.

Collins smiled at first, but then his expression changed into one of sheer panic.  He suddenly bolted upright.

" _Shit!_   The time!" he said, whirling his head around to take a glance at the hotel clock.  "I have work!  I'm going to be late!"

The smile slipped from Farrier's lips and he too rose up immediately.  "Damn, you're right," he cursed softly, berating himself more harshly internally for not having given thought to that.  He grimaced after he'd glanced over at the time, noting that it was most certainly half past nine.  "We'd best get you over there."

Collins shook his head as he tumbled out of bed.  " _Shit_..." he cursed, rubbing at his sore bum from when he landed, though he recovered rather quickly, perhaps from adrenaline.  "My boss is going to have my head for breakfast...!"

Farrier frowned at this.  "Not if I have anything to say about it, darling," he said, quickly moving out of bed so he could get dressed as well.  "I'll have Melinda send us another black car."

"Who?" Collins questioned as he threw on the same shirt from the night before and sighed at that fact to himself, shaking his head in self-disapproval.  "Gods, I'm going to stroll in looking like _utter shit_...!"

"Melinda," Farrier repeated.  "My agent."

"Oh," Collins said, nodding somewhat absently as he started throwing on the rest of his office with a scrunched nose in disgust at what he had no choice but to wear the once used clothes. 

The only thing he had kept on the whole night had been his pants.  Once he was mostly dressed, Collins made his way to the bathroom to try and do something about his mussed up hair.  Farrier, meanwhile, went over to one of the nightstands and picked up his phone, noting that he had an unread text message from his agent.  Farrier swiped across his screen and unlocked it so he could read it.

 _Great news!_   It said.  _The public is eating up all of the news coverage of you and your current 'beau,' and several photographs of you and Collins were leaked from when you were both on set.  Interest for your upcoming movie seems to be rising!_

Had it been any other person she'd been talking about, giving them credit about increased publicity for _anything_ , Farrier might have rolled his eyes.  Reading _that_ , though, Farrier found that he honestly couldn't help beaming a little bit with pride.  He was glad for the part that Collins had in all this.  His good mood, however, couldn't really skyrocket; he hadn't forgotten at all about the blonde man's current predicament.  Farrier tapped at the text box and began typing out a series of messages.

 _Yes, great_ , he typed out first, and sent that before composing another message to follow shortly thereafter.  _However, we've got a bit of a pickle we're dealing with over here_.

He snorted softly at how quickly his agent's response pinged back on his phone.  It was practically immediate.  Farrier could almost hear her concern through her words.

 _What?!  What is it?!  What's happened?!_   She wrote him.  _What's going on?!_

Farrier sighed and typed back, _in need of a car_.  _For Collins_.  _The man's late for work, honestly_.

He didn't know why he'd tacked on that last word.  It wasn't as if he was all that annoyed by it; more like he was upset with the fact that he'd somehow put the other man in this kind of predicament.

His agent's response came back again quickly.  _Well, shit, William_ , she said, and Collins could hear the disapproval in her tone.  _You had me thinking things were a lot more serious than that_.

Farrier frowned at this and almost wrote back something snarky, not having appreciated the implication that Collins' problem _wasn't_ serious, when his agent sent him another text message that basically clarified her meaning of the previous ones.  _Nothing a little talk from the likes of you or I can't fix_ , said his agent, and Farrier relaxed a bit upon reading this.  _I've arranged for you both a car, and it's on its way_.

 _Wonderful_ , Farrier replied.  _Thank you_.

Collins flew out of the bathroom at the same time Farrier had put the phone away.  He was distractedly flitting about the room for something.

"I've called for a car, darling," Farrier said, hoping this would make the other man feel a bit better about things.  "They should be here shortly.  So take your time, and don't you worry about leaving anything behind, or something like that.  I've the room for at least another evening.  I'll make sure whatever is yours gets returned to you."

His words did seem to take a little of the edge out of the other man's panic.  Collins flashed him a look of gratefulness.

" _Thank you_ ," he said, shaking his head.  "I just hope that perhaps my boss might take into consideration the fact that I haven't been late once at all, prior to this."

"Oh, I'm sure everything will turn out all right, in the end," Farrier said, taking a brief glance at his phone when it buzzed with a new message from his agent and relayed its short contents to Collins.  "Ten minutes."

"I do so wish I had a change of clothes..." Collins groaned softly.  "Though not that anyone would probably notice, at work...we're constantly sweating while working on building or repairing things, anyway..."

"Best not to worry over such things, dove," said Farrier.  "I'm sure things won't end as badly for you as you might think."

Collins sighed.  "One can only hope..." he replied.

The car, both men felt, couldn't have arrived soon enough.  As soon as they were in, Farrier made sure that their driver wasted no time in setting off.  At the actor's prompting, Collins rattled off an address, and soon they were on their way to the blonde's workplace.  Noting just how jittery the other man was, Farrier placed a hand gently around the other man's, in an effort to calm him.  It did seem to settle him down some.  Collins turned his head and gave Farrier a brief, small smile of gratefulness.  Farrier inwardly preened. 

When they arrived at Collins' workplace, the blonde was teeming with nervous energy.  Farrier was sure, by the way the other man gripped at his hand, that the blonde was about to faint.  Farrier squeezed Collins' hand gently in reassurance as they approached the front entrance.  They stopped at the doors, and Collins turned to face Farrier a moment, just before letting go of the other man's hand.

"Thanks for all you've done," said Collins.

"Mmhmm," Farrier offered in response, ignoring the buzz in his pocket, indicative of an incoming text message, for now.  "Go on, then."

Collins nodded and then took in a deep breath as he turned around.  "Well, here goes," he mumbled under his breath before entering through one of the doors.

Farrier then pulled out his phone.  A new message from his agent.

 _Placed a call_ , it read.  _Made sure that his boss understands, although I don't suppose it would hurt to show him a bit of a demonstration_.

Farrier nodded at that, despite the fact that his agent wouldn't be able to see it.  He'd caught her drift.  Farrier typed his response back.  Short, quick, and to the point.

 _That can, most certainly, be arranged_. 

His agent sent a lightning-quick response herself, in reply.  _Excellent_.  _I suggest you make a show of it_.

 _That_ , Farrier _didn't_ like, but at the same time, he knew that he couldn't exactly fault his agent for it.  At the end of the day, Melinda was a businesswoman, and Farrier knew that she had what she believed to be the actor's current best interests at heart.  Besides, he couldn't really articulate for himself just yet why he found the whole contract situation between himself and Collins becoming increasingly more annoying.  After all, he was most certain that he didn't dislike the other man.  Farrier sighed and ran a hand through his hair before slipping his cellular back into his pocket and then making his way back towards the black car.  He'd sort out his feelings on the matter at some point later on, he supposed.  In the meanwhile, he needed to distract himself with something to do until the end of the blonde man's shift, which was easy considering the fact that he had a few short scenes he was scheduled to film sometime during the middle of the day.

At work, Collins had somewhat come under fire, though his employer didn't lean in with his disapproval as hard as he would have, had it not been for the blonde man's former impeccable attendance record.  The call from Farrier's agent had helped too, but only by a fraction in comparison, since Collins' boss didn't quite believe the blonde's relationship with the actor to be anything more than hearsay.  Though the man had heard of the celebrity gossip in passing through his wife, he also typically didn't put all too much stock in the things, since he didn't believe half the stories in the magazines his wife read had any sort of factual basis to them. 

That view changed, however, at the end of the day.  As promised, Farrier's agent had leaked the news and a flock of reporters from various celebrity news outlets had gathered outside of Collins' workplace by the time the blonde man's shift ended.  Collins' workmates were shocked at the sight of the bustling crowd and the constant flashing of cameras.  From up above, in his vantage point by a window, Collins' boss also witnessed all the chaos down below, from the safety of his office.  The excitement only seemed to grow once the black car carrying Farrier pulled onto the scene, with the actor shortly thereafter climbing out of it.  The reporters continued to chatter and snap photos, although they did have the decency to part as Farrier began to make his way towards Collins.  Collins, who was at the moment frozen in place, paled.  He hadn't expected all this attention to follow him at work.  He wasn't quite sure how he felt about it, if he were going to be honest, but he didn't want to make a mess of things by reacting unfavorably now.  He did his best not to seem so tight when he offered a smile at Farrier, who was soon standing before him.

"So sorry about this morning, darling," Farrier said, loud enough, almost obnoxiously so, for at least Collins' coworkers to be able to hear what it was he was saying.  "For making you late.  And for...for _this_."

He gestured about vaguely in the direction of all the reporters, and he hoped that Collins could tell that he was quite serious about both apologies.  Despite not being entirely pleased about the current situation, Collins found that he just couldn't harbor any anger or irritation towards the other man.  He shook his head and gave Farrier a bit of a helpless shrug.

"That's just the way of things with you...innit?" he asked.

Farrier grimaced.  This time, it was Collins turn to feel apologetic.  He took several steps forward and closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms behind the other man's neck and murmuring softly into the other man's ear.

" _I'm sorry_ , Hugh..." Collins said.  "I didn't mean to be so cross with you...I know it couldn't have been you who planned all this..."

Farrier took advantage of the other man's proximity and wrapped his own arms around the other man's waist, pressing his cheek against the other man's.  "This'll be water under the bridge soon, I hope...yeah?" Farrier murmured.  "What say you we hightail it on out of here, hm?"

He felt more than saw Collins nod against his cheek.  " _Yes_ ," the other man whispered, surprisingly loud enough for the other man to hear over all the din.  " _Let's_."

The pair then somehow silently coordinated their escape, and soon they found themselves both running, hand in hand, towards where Farrier's hired black car was waiting for them.  After they'd just barely managed to shove themselves in, their driver began to drive them all off, although he did so carefully at first, until they were able to safely break away from the crowd.

Once it seemed like they were a fair enough distance away, Collins slumped in the backseat next to Farrier and released a huge sigh.  He then looked up at Farrier, who offered him a small smile in return.

"What a day, eh...?" Collins asked, shaking his head a bit.

Farrier gave a nod back in agreement.  "What a day indeed," he said, leaning back into his seat as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are tons of mistakes in this particular chapter. I'm finishing this half-asleep and the second half of this was written completely on my phone, so there's bound to be a few glaring errors. Not to worry; I am constantly combing through previous chapters of things I have written to see if anything at all needs to be fixed, and fix them if necessary. Until next time, then!


	6. Followed by a Different Trajectory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I wish you wouldn't think so little of yourself, darling," Farrier murmured. 
> 
> Collins' response was just as quiet. "I don't wish to take advantage of you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I THINK I FINALLY HAVE A PLAN!! Lol. Thanks to all you readers inspiring me to continue work on this. As you all know, this particular story would have died _ages_ ago, without reader support!
> 
> Also, for those curious how I picture Melinda, I'm actually torn. I started by seeing her more as [Anthea](http://66.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3ukxt7XzN1r6jqw5.png) from the BBC [_Sherlock_](https://68.media.tumblr.com/f55dd584c1d374a3c7d297b88287d2df/tumblr_myug55kKTH1rr2k89o1_500.gif) series, but then sometimes with her spunky attitude, I'm thinking Lena Luthor from [_Supergirl_](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/40200000/Lena-Luthor-supergirl-2015-tv-series-40239871-245-330.gif). I don't know! I'll let you all decide which one she is in your minds.
> 
> Lastly, so sorry this chapter took so long. Real life got ridiculously busy. Hope this chapter makes up for the wait, though!

Somewhere along the way, they'd entered this new phase together.  Both men felt as if they'd gone from mere pretending to something else, but neither were willing to admit this out loud, for the record.  After all, neither man had confidence that the other would appreciate hearing that maybe things were starting to feel a little bit more serious for them; that maybe there was something more at work here than a supposedly looming contract over their heads.

So when Farrier started making it a habit, to pick him up after work, Collins didn't question it.  Nor did he think twice about the few times Farrier even asked to see him on weekends.  He simply assumed that it was all just for the publicity.  And whenever Collins took to holding his arm as they walked from the car to a building, or if he perhaps smiled a bit more and laughed a bit louder at his jokes out in the public eye than he tended to do in private, Farrier basically assumed the same thing. 

They were stupid in love though, really—the public saw it, the media loved to speculate over the truth of it, and Melinda was sure of it.  Even Rudy, who was usually quite slow on the uptake for such things noticed it, and even reeled back how much he teased Collins over the relationship considerably—not that the blonde had the sense to notice it.  He was too involved, after all.  To him, everything was still moving at breakneck speed; though perhaps something could be said about how he was starting to notice the cameras that followed them around constantly less and less.  He was regaining his focus on his tasks at work, and aside from the initial excited chatter that had dominated the water cooler discussions at work the first few weeks, things had eventually died down to a dull roar when people finally settled down and realized that Collins was still the mostly quiet and reliable man he always was.  He did have to deal with the occasional homophobic slur among those less than pleased to be working with someone who they'd considered a nobody who was suddenly gathering so much attention, but to his surprise, Collins discovered that he had a lot more support among his fellow engineers than he had anticipated, and they were the ones who took it upon themselves to bat away the naysayers. 

The weeks leading up to Farrier's film wrapping up its production seemed to fly by quickly, and soon the actor's schedule was a bit more free than it had been prior.  Now he just had to deal with the two months of promotion and then—well, Farrier honestly didn't really want to think about that last month in their contract just yet.  So, at the earliest given opportunity, mid-afternoon on a Sunday, Farrier called for a car and _ran_. 

* * *

These days, there weren't any cameras at the ready once Farrier came to pick him up from wherever he happened to be; the news was rather used to their routine now, and their relationship had become rather old news for the celebrity circuit.  Of course, neither Collins nor Farrier really noticed this, and in each of their minds, they were still putting on a show for the cameras.  At least, that's what they each told themselves internally.

Collins smiled upon seeing Farrier, waiting as usual in the way he always did—no matter where he happened to be picking the blonde up from—leaning casually against a black car.  That day, Collins was coming out of a London hotel Farrier had arranged for him to stay in.  When Farrier spread his arms out slightly by his sides, palms turned towards the blonde's direction, Collins' smile grew and his pace quickened.  As routine as this was, Collins still tended to blush once he managed to place his hands in Farrier's and the actor clasped his hands around the blonde's fingers.  His face reddened still when Farrier brought his face closer; Collins knew he should have been used to this by now, but part of him still easily flustered due to his inward feelings of guilt.  Even as Collins enjoyed when their lips met for a kiss, his stomach twisted in knots because he knew he was in the wrong for always wanting a little more from Farrier, even when the cameras weren't rolling around them.  _So this is what being a fanatic must mean_ , Collins had thought to himself once about the whole thing.  _Someone who believes a celebrity owes them something, just because they themselves are attracted to them_.  And Farrier was such a good soul for putting up with him; going the extra mile in times like these.  For example right then, Farrier seemed okay with indulging Collins a bit more, wrapping an arm loosely around his waist and necking him a bit after their lips parted, trailing light butterfly kisses down along the side of the blonde's neck.

"I've a few interviews scheduled for the next few days," Farrier murmured softly against his skin.  "So I'm afraid that means we'll be separated for a spell."

"Oh," Collins replied numbly, internally berating himself for feeling so disappointed by this.  _After all, he had no right to be disappointed by this_ , he thought.  "Of course."

He didn't understand why Farrier was now looking at him with a slight frown.  Before Collins could wonder if it was something he'd done or said, or even perhaps the inverse of those, Farrier distracted him and made his breath hitch then, when the other man ran a thumb gently along the blonde's brow. 

"You're upset," Farrier said, reading him correctly.  "I'm sorry..."

Collins' cheeks were on fire.  He wanted to die in that moment from embarrassment.

"P-pardon?  No, n-no...!" Collins said, brows raised as he tried to deny the truth of the matter.  "I  _completely_ understand...!"

Farrier's lips quirked slightly at the corners in amusement, and there was something reflected in his eyes—perhaps fondness?  Collins honestly couldn't tell.  He had doubts that was the case, of course.  He was already certain of his own growing inappropriate delusions about the whole thing, much to his chagrin.  Farrier turned to open the back door of the car and then tilted his head slightly, indicating for Collins to hop inside.

"Pop in, pet," Farrier said, softly.  "Allow me to make it up to you in advance."

It was this kind of thing that screwed with Collins, the blonde surmised as he did as requested, climbing into the car with Farrier following close behind.  The way Farrier would indulge him— _dote on him_ —give Collins that little more that he always craved, even when he knew he had no right to demand things.  He hated the way his body just  _reacted_ to Farrier's touch, even in private, because he didn't want to let the other man onto the fact that Collins was starting to really  _feel things_ towards the other man now.  He mentally kicked himself for liking the way Farrier reached under his legs and pulled them up to lay across his, shortly after the pair of them had buckled in.  Collins hated the way he allowed a soft mewl of contentment to escape when Farrier wrapped his arms around the blonde's shoulders and trailed a finger underneath his chin, tilting it upwards for a brief kiss.  Collins hated even more the way he automatically reacted, shortly afterward, burying his heated face against Farrier's shoulder, listening to the other man rumble softly with laughter.

"What is it, darling...?" Farrier asked, and Collins didn't buy his whole 'just asking an innocent question' act for a second.  "What's got you so nervous?"

"I never know what's up or down when I'm with you..." Collins mumbled honestly.  "There's no film crew here, is there...?"

He was unable to look Farrier in the eyes as he spoke, but he could hear the frown in the other man's voice perfectly fine, even without looking at him.  Collins didn't understand why the other man would be at all upset.

"No," said Farrier.  "There isn't."

"Mm," Collins said, unable to think of anything else to say in reply.

The rational part of his mind told him that he should extricate himself now, but then there was that other part of him that was afraid of missing the closeness; the warmth.  That part won.  To his surprise, Farrier didn't seem to have a problem with this, although he remained oddly silent for the rest of the ride.  Collins, notwithstanding feelings of guilt, was loathe to change positions and so he remained, even as he developed a bit of a cramp to his neck and his side.  His position was a bit awkward due to his still being buckled in.

The car parked on the street in front of a restaurant, and Collins looked up at Farrier curiously.  "We're meant to stop here?" he questioned.

Farrier merely grunted his assent.  Collins didn't know why he felt so disappointed. 

"Oh," he mumbled as he and Farrier seemed to quietly work out an arrangement where they disentangled and soon made their way out of the car.

Farrier held out his hand, expression still seeming downcast, and Collins worried about the change in demeanor as he took it.  Despite his stormy look, Farrier was still kind and gentle with him, guiding Collins towards the entrance of the restaurant.  The next time Collins heard the other man speak, it was to a member of the waitstaff.

"We've reservations for two, here," Collins heard Farrier murmur.

The host nodded, apparently recognizing who Farrier was instantly.  "Yes, of course, sir," he said, motioning for the pair to follow him, a couple menus in hand.  "Right this way."

Sometime after they'd settled in, Collins began to look over the menu and his eyes nearly popped out of his skull in surprise at just how expensive the prices were.  He'd gotten used to Farrier lavishing him with fine dining when the paparazzi were close, sure, but Collins had done a quick sweep of the room before, and he didn't recall sighting any cameras.  Not to mention, of all the places Farrier had taken him to before, this was by far the most expensive.  Collins bit the inside of his cheek, nervous.  

"Um..." he tried, making sure not to shut the menu a little _too_ quickly, and set it down.  "This is nice, but...perhaps we should go someplace else?"

"Hm?" Farrier asked, mildly distracted.  He looked over his menu at Collins with a slightly quirked brow.  "Something wrong...?  I thought you fancied Italian."

"I mean, I...I _do_ , but..." Collins said with a grimace.

"So what, then?" Farrier asked, looking rather confused by Collins suggestion for a change in venue at first.  Then, something seemed to click in Farrier's eyes, or at least, that's how Collins saw it, and the other man set his own menu down in front of him.  " _Ah_."

"W-what...?" Collins asked, not knowing why he felt like he'd been caught sticking his hand someplace where it didn't belong. 

He squirmed a bit in his seat when Farrier clasped a hand gently over one of his over the tabletop.  The look in Farrier's eyes was unreadable; at least, that's how it seemed to Collins.

"You do know that I am more than happy to do things like this for you of my own volition, don't you?" Farrier asked. 

Collins couldn't imagine why.  Apparently, his expression said as much, because Farrier shook his head and sighed, leaning back in his chair, but not withdrawing the hand over the blonde's. 

"I wish you wouldn't think so little of yourself, darling," Farrier murmured. 

Collins' response was just as quiet.  "I don't wish to take advantage of you..."

He didn't know how to take the look of surprise that crossed Farrier's features.  A slight frown soon followed, creasing the actor's forehead.

" _Hey_ ," he said, squeezing Collins' hand gently, getting the blonde to look up at him.  "Let me take care of you this time, okay?"

 _This time_.  Farrier didn't even know why he had said that, including those words with the rest of it.  There was no context for it between them, at present.  Both men felt a light zing of electricity pass between their hands, causing each of them to pull back unexpectedly.  Farrier suddenly recalled that dream he had, the one where he'd experienced severe difficulties breathing.  Collins, on his end, received a different sort of flash.

_Inflamed hands, cupped between his own.  The owner of them was in so much pain, but somehow, Collins got the sense that the other man always tried to hide it._

The thought was fleeting, and then it was gone.  Collins blinked and looked up at Farrier, jaw tensing slightly.  He wanted to ask if the other man had felt something similar, but he also feared sounding crazy if Farrier hadn't, so Collins kept quiet about it.  Instead, once he'd recovered internally, he quickly plastered on a smile for Farrier and nodded.

"Very well, then," he said quietly, picking back up his previously abandoned menu.  "If you're insisting..."

"I do."

There was a warmth in Farrier's eyes, and Collins couldn't help feeling as if he were melting inside.  _Oh shit_ , he thought to himself.  _You're in over your head now, kid_. 

And he was.  He undeniably shuttered; Farrier saw this immediately in the blonde's expression and grew concerned.  Before he could say anything, however, Collins beat him to speech and waved a server over, pointing to something priced more on the lower end of the broad selection of times and placing his order.  By the time he looked back at Farrier, it was with such fondness that the actor couldn't tell if the other was either besting him at his own craft or if the mood was really genuine.  Regardless, he was distracted enough that he was thwarted from trying to figure out what it was that had caused Collins to shut down.

What threw him off even more was just how quickly the atmosphere seemed to have shifted between them to something more lighthearted by the time the food came out.  On the one hand, Farrier was pleased that Collins seemed so calm and at ease around him, but on the other hand, there was a small voice in the back of his head that said that he should be extremely suspicious of this.  Something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it right then.  Or perhaps, the truth was, he didn't want to entertain the possibility that Collins seeming to be more comfortable around him was actually more of a bad thing than good.  It made him sick to even remotely consider that this was Collins putting on a show as opposed to displaying his genuine feelings towards Farrier.  And so lunch continued with this mixture of uneasiness, hope, and fear. 

It was fall now—they had begun their arrangement in early summer—and as they exited the restaurant, Farrier noticed the way Collins' frame shook with a light shiver.  He immediately wasted no time in removing his jacket and casting it over the other man's shoulders, reveling in the fact, as always, that he was the reason for the red on the other man's face; his neck.  He was pleased when he saw Collins bunch a part of Farrier's jacket in one of his hands and pulling one side of it a bit closer to him.  It made Farrier want to sweep the other man off his feet, suddenly, and he might have done so if he didn't think the other man would punch him in the face for it; it being an involuntary reaction, of course.  He settled for resting a hand against the small of the other man's back.

"You looked cold," he murmured softly in the other man's ear.

"...I am, thank you," Collins murmured back, and Farrier could sense the layers in the reply, but he could not yet interpret them, which he found to be rather frustrating indeed.

"I'd like to take you one other place, if I could," said Farrier.

His mind screamed 'no,' and yet, Collins couldn't stop his own nodding.  "Sure," he replied.

Farrier smiled.  "Wonderful," he said, taking Collins by the hand.  "Come, let's away."

And there it was, again, that _ringing_ in his ears, Collins noticed, as Farrier led him back to the car.  He heard his own voice echo somewhere in the back of his mind.  A whisper. 

_"I'd go away with you anywhere."_

And Collins couldn't help wondering if perhaps he was going a little bit insane for thinking it.

"Where are you taking me?" he said aloud instead, and his heart fluttered against his will at the sound of Farrier's warm laugh.

"Someplace I think you'll like," Farrier promised as they climbed into the car and he tapped at the partition, which rolled down only long enough for him to murmur a few instructions to their driver before the divider rolled right back up again.  Farrier completed his thought with Collins shortly thereafter.  "Somewhere private."

"...like a Ferris wheel?" Collins questioned, genuinely without a clue as to where Farrier might be taking him.

Farrier shook his head and chuckled.  "No.  Someplace a lot more secluded than that," he said.

"Then where?" Collins asked.

"You'll see," said Farrier.

The majority of the ride was fairly silent.  They seemed to be traveling for what seemed like hours.  When the car stopped, Collins looked about curiously; they were surrounded by greenery, and being that it was the evening, he had a bit of trouble placing where they could be.  He looked at Farrier questioningly. 

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Come along, then," Farrier said, taking a brief glance at his watch before motioning for Collins to climb out of the car with him.  "There's still a few hours left in the daylight, and we'll be needing it, too."

"Are we going for a hike?" Collins asked as he slid out of the car behind Farrier.  "This late in the day?"

"What better time to do it, love?" Farrier asked softly, and somehow that was enough for Collins.

 _Pushover_ , a little voice inside of him taunted.  " _Oh, sod off_..." Collins muttered softly under his breath.

"Hm?" Farrier asked, looking at Collins with a brow quirked in question as he held out a hand.  "What was that?"

Collins blushed, but had no problems entwining his fingers with Farrier's.  He shook his head. 

"Nothing," he mumbled, following Farrier as the other man tugged him along.

It took them the better part of an hour, but they eventually made it to an [open view of the ocean](https://www.holidaycottages.co.uk/assets/images/blog/beach2.jpg).  Before Collins could really be captivated by the view, he was briefly distracted by the fact that there was a bit of a camp set up beside a thin, wooden bench that had already been made to take root there.  Farrier had called in a favor with Melinda, who had been more than happy to assist with arrangements.  To his surprise, she hadn't suggested sending in a film crew to chronicle their romantic evening.  Whether this was intentional or a slip of the mind, Farrier didn't much care.  It worked for him either way.  Collins looked back at Farrier curiously.

"What's all this?" he asked.

Farrier moved next to him and chuckled.  "Our little makeshift hotel room," he said before motioning towards the expanse before them.  "Wouldn't be good More importantly—what do you think of the view?"

This time, Collins took the time to really take in his surroundings, and his breath hitched softly upon taking in the view.  It was beautiful.  _It was overwhelming._   Collins glanced over at Farrier, whose expression was boyishly smug.  He knocked the blonde's shoulder gently with one of his own.

"Takes your breath away, doesn't it?" he murmured.

Collins nodded.  "Yes," he replied, not sure how to feel about the emotions welling up within him as he turned back to look at the ocean.  "Yes, it does."

Engrossed in the view himself, Farrier missed the wince of discomfort that flashed across Collins' face.  The blonde didn't know why, but he felt his heart rate steadily increase; the pounding was loud in his ears.  Then, when his vision started to grow hazy, Collins realized what was happening. 

" _Shit, not now..._ " Collins mumbled softly under his breath as he clutched at his chest, which felt like it was suddenly twisting with panic.

He barely registered Farrier's body turning beside him; the man's concerned voice sounding rather distant.  His vision blacked out when he felt Farrier's hands clasp around his arms.  Soon, he felt a sensation as if he were being pulled out from a tight space, and suddenly his eyes were assaulted by a flood of color; of images.

* * *

He was on a small boat, at first.  That part didn't last too long.  After noticing the vastness of the ocean around him, Collins then felt compelled to look up at the sky.  There was a plane overhead; the engine had stalled.  Collins didn't know why, but as the plane slowly began to fall, further and further away, his heart started to feel like it was sinking right along with the aircraft. 

 _No_ , he thought to himself as his eyes continued to follow the plane, trying to figure out where it might land.  _No, no, no_. 

His heart sank when the plane disappeared from view.  As Collins clasped a hand along the edge of the boat, his vision began to blur again, and the blonde sucked in another breath, squeezing his eyes shut as a feeling of pressure built around him.

When that heaviness seemed to lift, Collins opened his eyes again, and it took him a moment to realize that he was standing along a pier, looking out at the water.  _He was waiting for someone_ , Collins thought.  And it was odd how sure of that he was.  _For the man in the plane_ , Collins thought, not questioning how he knew that either.  _The one that he'd just seen disappear beyond the horizon_.

Then there was a voice; an elderly one, that caught Collins' attention.  He turned around to face the kind expression of an older gentleman.  A seaman.  The one whose boat he'd just been on, Collins' mind helpfully supplied, and he again didn't question how he was so sure of that information.

Like most times when he had visions like these, Collins' mouth seemed to spout words on their own.  "Sorry.  I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that."

"That's all right, son," the man replied, his tone gentle.  "I said is there someone you are looking for?"

Collins' voice sounded distant to his own ears.  "My mate," he replied automatically, and _that's_ when it hit him.

His mate.  The man on the plane.  The man who was now lost.  The man in all his other dreams.  It was the same man.  As soon as Collins' synapses made this connection, a hand flew to his mouth and he gasped. 

* * *

_"JIM!"_

Farrier's shout brought him back to the present.  Blue-green eyes peered worriedly into his own.  Collins blinked several times, and that's when he realized there was a wetness to his cheeks.  He'd been crying.

" _There_ you are..." Farrier said softly, shaking his head. 

Collins couldn't trust himself to speak at first; he still felt as if he might break out into sobs.  His skin tingled with warmth when Farrier cupped his hands around his face, running his thumbs along Collins' cheeks to wipe away the tears that had fallen there.

Eventually, Collins was able to gather himself.  Closing his eyes he gulped once first, before finally trusting himself to speak.

"What...what happened?" he asked, looking back into Farrier's eyes.

The other man shook his head.  "...I don't know, dove," he murmured quietly, running his fingers gently back and forth across Collins' cheeks.  "I was hoping maybe you could tell me."

Collins gave the other man a bit of a helpless shrug of the shoulders.  "I haven't a clue either," he said before releasing a small sigh.  "I just... _I'm sorry_."

Farrier frowned.  "For what?" he asked.  "There's nothing you've to be sorry about."

"This is...well, I don't know what this is," Collins mumbled, looking down in embarrassment.  "But I know that you meant well by this plan, and here I am, I've gone and spoiled it..."

"Nonsense...!" Farrier said, moving his hands from Collins' face back to his shoulders.  "It is I who should apologize.  I should have done my research... _clearly_ something here has distressed you...is it the ocean?  Do you prefer places more populated?"

"No...!" Collins said, the abruptness of his response stopping Farrier from suggesting anything else.  Without thinking, he lifted his own hands to place them tentatively on Farrier's chest, and some of the tension neither of them realized the actor had relaxed a bit underneath them.  Collins looked into Farrier's eyes and spoke quietly.  "No...you've done nothing wrong.  It's just...sometimes I have these...these _flashes_..."

Farrier's brow creased together slightly.  "How do you mean?"

"You know how sometimes I seem to be going places?" Collins asked, chuckling a bit sheepishly as he tapped at the side of his head with a finger.  "You know... _in here_...?"

He prayed that the other man wouldn't find him crazy.  He was somewhat reassured by Farrier's nod and serious expression.

"Yes," said Farrier.  "You seem to go someplace faraway, quite often, in fact."

Collins grimaced.  "Yes, well...they used to only really happen at night, but now..." said Collins.  He was afraid to admit to Farrier that since they'd started interacting with each other, these visions were beginning to happen more often in his waking hours, with alarming frequency.  "Intense daydreams, I guess I'd call them."

"Mm.  I understand," Farrier said in response, surprising Collins.

"You do?" Collins asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Mmhmm," Farrier said with a nod.  "I suppose I've experienced a bit what you're talking about too."

"Huh," Collins said, blinking as he thought about it.  He then recalled the nightmare he had watched Farrier experienced sometime back.  "Oh."

There was a slight quirk to Farrier's lips at the word.  He slid one hand down one of Collins' arms and took hold of the blonde's hand.  

"You're through it now though, eh?" Farrier asked, referring to the visions.

Collins nodded.  "I think I am," he confirmed.

"Good," said Farrier.  "Then what say you and I...we enjoy what's left of this sunset?"

Collins gave another slight nod of the head, and followed Farrier to the wooden bench close by.  They sat down beside each other on it, and Collins leaned in naturally when Farrier wrapped an arm around him, releasing a small sigh of contentment as he did so.  For a moment, they both sat there, quietly taking in the view.  And as he listened to the crashing of waves against rock, the low whistle of the breeze, and admired the various colors in the sky, Collins found himself wishing he could somehow capture this moment in a jar and keep it with him forever.  He yearned to freeze this moment in time.

Eventually, the last rays of sunlight were extinguished by the night, and within a few minutes their eyes adjusted to the darkness.  The blonde felt Farrier's lips press gently atop his head, and Collins' cheeks grew warm.

"Come on," said Farrier.  "Why don't we get ourselves into bed?"

"Sure," Collins said with a nod.  "Sounds grand."

It occurred to him, then, that he'd spent the whole day without a single camera in sight.  It caused a hopefulness to well up in him; a feeling he quickly tried to push down.  _Surely_ there were paparazzi out and about, perhaps hiding in the bushes somewhere.  Collins might have been living under a rock for a majority of his life, when it came to celebrity affairs, but even he knew how invasive the paparazzi could be.  They were people who somehow managed to take pictures of the most private of moments among public figures, after all.  Yet still, though knowing this, Collins couldn't completely taper down those feelings he knew were irrational to have.

Especially shortly after he and Farrier climbed into their tent, and when Collins turned he soon found the other man's warm lips on his.  To his embarrassment, he couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped as Farrier straddled over his lap, kissing the blonde fervently.  As he crawled slightly forward, Collins moved slightly back, using his hands to help guide him backwards as he and Farrier's tongues continued their little dance.

Soon he was fully on his back, and there were a few moments where Collins couldn't help feeling like perhaps he'd done this before, somehow.  Despite never having lain with anyone like this before, much less with another man.  Collins could have sworn he saw the top of their tent flicker and look like something else.  _Another vision_ , Collins noted belatedly, mildly wondering what this one meant. 

He gasped softly for breath when their lips finally parted, and he whimpered softly when Farrier trailed kisses down the side of his face; down along to the base of his neck.  His toes curled within his shoes; his nipples underneath his shirt grew taut.  He felt the blood rush straight down to his nether regions, and Collins flinched away from Farrier at the pure shame from it.  Farrier stopped his actions immediately and looked down at Collins in concern. 

"What is it, darling...?" Farrier asked softly, carding his fingers gently through Collins' hair.  "What's wrong?"

Collins flicked out his tongue nervously in the way he often did, moistening his lips.  "Nothing," he said, shaking his head a bit.  "Nothing, just..."

"Just...?"

"I've, uh...never done this before," said Collins.

"Done...?"

"Y-you know..." Collins mumbled, feeling the heat creeping up from his neck to his cheeks.  " _This_...this.  I've never..."

Farrier's eyes widened; the man seemed to catch up then.  The actor scrambled off him immediately, and Collins instantly regretted making his admission, already missing the warmth of the other man's body enveloping him.

" _Gods_ , I'm so sorry...!" Farrier said, looking quite honestly apologetic.  "I had no idea you were..."

Collins didn't know why he felt so ashamed all of a sudden.  "A-ah..." he said.  "N-not at all...!  S-so sorry to, um...to disappoint."

"What?  _No_ ," Farrier said with a frown, gripping Collins by the arms and shaking his head.  " _No_.  You're not a disappointment at all."

Collins licked his lips again nervously.  "Then...?"

"You're _lovely_ ," Farrier whispered, and it caused Collins' heart to flutter at how serious the man appeared to be when he said it.  "And you deserve much more than to have your first time be in a tent pitched out in the middle of nowhere.  With another man."

Collins felt his heart plummet.  He bit down on the inside of his cheek gently once before speaking.

"Would things have been different, then...?" he asked the other man softly.  "If I'd lain with another once before?"

"Perhaps," came Farrier's response, and Collins didn't know how he felt about how he could hear the truth in the other man's admission.  "I would not be as hesitant to move forward, yes..."

"Oh," Collins said numbly, having nothing else to offer in terms of reply.

Farrier settled in then, a bit awkwardly beside him.  The air between them slowly grew cold.  Collins desperately wanted to curl up against the other man, feel enveloped by his warmth again.  Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Collins broke the silence.

"This was quite wonderful, you know," Collins said, keeping his eyes to the top of their tent, unable to bring himself to look over at Farrier.  "I rather enjoyed myself.  The quiet..."

When the other didn't respond, Collins sucked in a short breath and turned over.  As he did so, Farrier also turned over on his side, facing Collins.  The two men stared at each other.  Slowly, unconsciously, Collins reached out with one of his hands, granting the other man silent permission to resume touch.  Farrier seemed to pick up on the cue, and soon their hands were entwined between them.  Collins flicked his tongue out again, running it across his dry lips.

" _Hugh_..." he tried softly.

This seemed to get a positive reaction out of the other man.  Farrier squeezed his hand back gently.  Collins took this as encouragement to continue.

"I think I..." he began then trailed off, causing the other man to raise his brows up in question.

"Hm...?"

"Nothing," Collins said, shaking his head and closing his eyes.  "Never mind.  I think I'm about ready for some shut-eye now, aren't you?"

If the other man wanted to press him further, he decided not to act on it.  "Of course," Farrier said instead in response.  "Go on and rest then, Jim.  We'll pack up and leave as soon as things are light out."

Collins nodded.  No further words were exchanged between them.  Had Collins known, perhaps, that Farrier wouldn't have reacted adversely to his earlier failed admission, then perhaps he would have made it.

 _I think I'm falling in love with you,_ Collins had just stopped short from saying.

He had ultimately decided against it because he was sure, despite their physical chemistry, that Farrier would have reacted adversely to the admission.  At the end of the day, he was just fulfilling his role as a contract, and Farrier was still a public figure who had, no doubt, countless fans that would have killed for this moment.  Who would have taken advantage of Farrier's need for a warm body, and perhaps blackmailed him afterwards, once he'd come to his senses.  And Farrier did react differently when he was no longer overcome by primal urges, Collins noticed.  Farrier had withdrawn from him quickly, the minute he'd learned Collins had no experience being deeply intimate with another, after all.  The man did have a conscience.  Collins would be a scoundrel to exploit his moments of weakness.  And so he closed in on himself.

Of course, had Collins realized that the man across from him was working through similar feelings as his own, perhaps he might have been more comfortable taking a chance on things.  However, love could make a man a fool just as it could make one blind, and as Collins slowly drifted off to sleep, he missed the way Farrier regarded him with such fondness.  With great longing. 

And of course, Collins was fast asleep when Farrier whispered softly to him.  When he was sure the other man would be unable to hear.

" _I think you have a hold over me, Mister James Earl Collins_ ," Farrier said, tentatively brushing a few strands of hair away from the other man's forehead." _Though, as a matter of truth, I must admit.  I can't say at all that I mind it..."_


	7. A Slip Through the Cracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Jimmy!"_ Rudy's voice came through cheerily.
> 
> Collins bit back a groan.  A call from his friend often meant trouble, sure, but whenever Rupert was this excited about something, that trouble was almost certainly guaranteed. 
> 
> He answered warily, in a bit of a resigned voice.  "...what is it, Rupert?"
> 
>  _"You're cross!"_ Rudy said, his voice sounding comically confused.  _"How's that even possible, mate!  I've only just called you!"_
> 
> "Yeah, well I haven't heard from you in _weeks_ , so..." said Collins.  "To hear from you after some period of quiet, well...forgive me if I'm a little concerned about what it is that you might be planning this time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The support that grows with each chapter really brings a smile to my face. Thanks, guys.
> 
> Also, word of warning—I totally fabricate things about a school here. Please excuse the inaccuracies.

They woke up rather entangled.  Collins was first, as he often was whenever they happened to be like this; in some form of bed.  Then again, his body was just accustomed to waking up early due to work.  Farrier, of course, had a profession that often let him sleep in if he wasn't on some rigorous filming schedule, and the man seemed to have no problems taking advantage of the lulls in between shoots. 

Every time Collins had the opportunity to wake in Farrier's arms, the blonde marveled at how well-rested he felt.  Always like he hadn't slept so well in years.  Little realizations like that would make him wish that situations like these were the norm, and would remain as such.

Now typically he was content to just watch Farrier until the other man began to stir, but that morning had been different, somehow.  There was something about the whole setup that resonated particularly with Collins that morning, the mixture of land, sea, and air all around their tent.  The fact that they were someplace secluded and tucked away from prying or judgmental eyes.  All of it seemed familiar somehow, but Collins couldn't place his finger on it.  For once he didn't recall any dreams of the night, though if he had, he most certainly would have blushed at remembering that he and that faceless stranger who often permeated his dreams were having sex in the back of some weapons truck from another time—perhaps then he might have been able to make some parallels with his current situation and figuratively died from the mortification.  Thankfully though, Collins didn't recall, and that was most certainly why he felt a bit more daring than usual.  Slowly, carefully, he moved one of his arms—the one that had at some point flung itself around Farrier's torso—and moved it so it was between the two of them.  Slowly, selfishly, Collins indulged himself by slowly sliding his hand up Farrier's still-clothed chest, lifting the hand only after he got close to the man's collarbone.  Then, he lightly brushed his fingertips over parts of Farrier's face—the brows, the cheekbones, and then finally the lips. 

It was just as he was trailing his index finger all the way across Farrier's lower lip when Collins was flat out surprised by the other man opening his eyes so suddenly, and yet naturally, like he'd been awake for a time.  There'd been none of the usual tells, like the squeeze of the eyelids, or Farrier's body starting to twist in movement, ready to stretch himself out before opening his eyes for the first time that morning.  He was staring straight on at Collins too, with a rather neutral expression, and the blonde was the very essence of a deer in headlights, his hand frozen right where it was.  His eyes wide with shock.  His mouth parted in horror.  It lasted for only a few brief moments.  Then, Collins quickly attempted to withdraw his hand.  Before he could successfully pull it back, Farrier's hand caught his, his reflexes lightning quick.  There was no change in his expression other than perhaps a more steely look of resolve in his blue-green eyes.  Collins gulped, unable to look away from him; Farrier's hand feeling hot over his own, his grip firm.

"O-oh god...!" Collins whispered, trying once again to pull his hand back, but facing resistance.  "I-I'm sorry...!  S-so, so sorry...!"

"Don't be," Farrier said softly, shaking the hand he was holding a bit, as if trying to emphasize his point to the other man.  "It's all right."

"...I don't know what came over me," Collins mumbled miserably, still so embarrassed despite the reassurance.

" _Jim_."

"Hm?" Collins squeaked, forcing himself to look back into Farrier's eyes.

He was surprised to find the other man didn't seem too upset with him.  In fact, he didn't appear to be upset at all.  Farrier successfully pulled Collins' hand to his cheek and let it rest there.

" _You're fine_ ," he insisted.  "We're supposed to be in a relationship, after all.  There's bound to be touching."

"But there aren't any cameras..." Collins tried.

"Fuck the cameras," Farrier said bluntly, surprising the blonde man once again.  When Collins tensed, the other man sighed and shook his head.  "Look, pet.  You've indulged me now and again too, haven't you?  Yeah?"

Collins swallowed the nervous lump down his throat and nodded.  "Er, well, y-yes, I suppose..."

"And while we're under this contract, you've agreed not to see anyone else, so..." Farrier let out another sigh.  "Well...who am I to fault you for trying to get your needs fulfilled too?"

Though he knew Farrier meant well by this, the words still gave Collins a little twist to his gut.  The feelings were too sharp now; he was too aware of how fast he was falling, and the reminder that this arrangement was only temporary pained him.  The thought that Farrier would let him have his way during the short time that they had left brought him little comfort.

Farrier frowned when he noticed the other man's expression shutter again, just as he'd done the previous day.  This time, he made a point to address it.

"What is it, dove?" Farrier asked, tone soft, but filled with concern.  "What's wrong?"

Collins closed his eyes, sucked in a breath, and shook his head briefly before opening his eyes again, looking at Farrier.  "What are we doing here, Hugh?"

Farrier's frown deepened.  "I'm not quite sure what you're asking me."

"You.  Me.  _This_..." Collins said, finally able to extricate his hand from Farrier's so he could motion at the short distance between them.  He sighed and moved away from Farrier then, rising to a seated position.  "What time is it?"

Farrier grunted and slowly sat up himself, patting around his side of the tent for his watch.  He soon found it.

"Seven-thirty," he replied.

Collins' eyes widened.  "Seven—?!  It's Monday, isn't it?!"

Farrier nodded.  "Well, yes, but— _oh_..." he trailed off, his eyes widening slightly.

"Shit!" Collins cursed.  "Shit, bloody shit!"

Farrier mentally kicked himself as Collins scrambled out from under the covers.  In his oversight, he'd completely forgotten that just because  _he_ was off of work for the time being, that didn't mean the rest of the world was also off along with him.  

"Listen, Jim..."

"Oh god...I _can't_ be late again, I _can't_...!" Collins lamented as he started straightening out what he could of his outfit and hair before working on the tent's zipper.  "Is the car waiting for us?  How far along is the walk again?  I didn't time it last night..."

" _Jim_..." Farrier tried again, attempting to maintain calm despite his own heart pounding a little too fast, worried about how the other man would react to what he had to say next.

Collins managed to get the front flap of the tent open and started making his way out.  Farrier sighed and called after him.

"Jim, we're in _Heddons Mouth_...!" Farrier said as he rose to his knees, glancing around for his phone and picking it up as soon as he found it.  He began to type out a text message to Melinda while simultaneously keeping his voice raised at a reasonable volume, to ensure Collins could hear him from outside the tent.  "That means it's an hour hike back to the car, if it's waiting, and then at least another four hours or so back to London, and another eight or nine back to Manchester."

"My _god_ , we're in bloody Devon?!" Collins gasped in horror, pushing the tent's flap away with an arm and poking his head back in.

"... _yes_ ," Farrier said with a grimace.  "And in hindsight, I do realize that I probably should have thought this plan better through..."

"Oh my god...!" Collins groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and running the knuckle of his thumb upwards against the center of his forehead.  "Well that's just bloody fantastic, isn't it?!  Even if we were to take the car up to Cardiff, and I were to take a plane from that airport..."

"Or even if, say, we just drove straight up to Manchester from here," said Farrier.  "The total trip would run anywhere between six to eight hours."

"Bloody hell...!" Collins said, this time sounding more defeated, and he slowly slumped to a sitting position outside the tent on the grass.  He looked to be in a bit of a daze.  "There's just no way of getting back without wasting the whole day now, is there...?"

Farrier grimaced.  He ignored the ping that came from his phone in his pocket for the time being.  He'd never once seen Collins this upset before, and if he were to be honest with himself, Farrier couldn't blame the other man. 

"This was really a cock up on my part, Jim," Farrier said, completely apologetic. 

His heart clenched when all he received in reply at first was Collins' sigh of resignation.  They sat there in a state of awkward silence for what seemed like eternity.  Then, finally, Collins heaved out another long sigh and then hung his head in defeat, shaking it slowly.

"No...no," he mumbled softly.  "It's fine...it's all fine."

"Jim, I—" Farrier began, but then paused for a moment when his phone pinged in his pocket again, reminding him that he hadn't checked the previous message either.  "...one second."

"We've got nothing but time, eh?" Collins said halfheartedly, the blonde doing his best not to sound bitter.

 _It was his fault, after all_ , he decided.  He'd run into situations like this with Farrier before.  He should have been better prepared.  He'd known better.  He and Farrier came from different worlds—played by different rules.  Sure, Farrier was compensating him handsomely for right now, and his work was more forgiving than not when things like this occurred, but Collins knew eventually all the good things would come to an end.  He had a vague idea, from several of Rudy's late night rants with him at the pub every now and again, about how these _people_ , the ones that those like Farrier relied on as _fans_ , could instantly turn on you if something were to go sour.  Collins knew that there were people at work who supported everything happening to him for now, but he had no idea how supportive they'd remain, once he and Farrier would eventually wrap things up, so to speak, and no longer be considered an item.  _What then_ , Collins couldn't help but wonder.  He hoped to high heaven that at the very least, at the end of all this craziness, he would still be able to say that he had a job to go back to.  With the contract so near to its end, however, and with him and Farrier needing to end things within the next month, Collins couldn't help but to worry if that kind of reality would even be possible at all.

While Collins was deeply distracted by his thoughts, Farrier, on the other hand, was busy speed-reading his text messages from Melinda.  _Smoothed things out with his work_ , the first message read, and Farrier couldn't help but to release a small sigh of relief at that.  _Don't worry about the camp—I'll have someone go out there and take care of that_ , the next message read.  _Let me know whether you'd like a chopper to Cardiff and a plane out to Manchester, or if you'd like to stick with the car and play it by ear in London_ , read the last message.  Farrier flicked out his tongue, rolling it over his lower lip before putting his phone facedown and crawling the short distance over to where Collins had taken a seat on the outside.

"We could take the car back to London or a chopper to Cardiff Airport," said Farrier.  "If the latter, then I can make sure all your things are packed from the hotel and sent up to Manchester.  Your work's taken care of—I just received word from Melinda."

"...right," Collins said, giving Farrier a short nod, but not quite looking at him.  He still looked a bit off.  "I...well...I suppose if they're not expecting me, and I also hope they're not planning on giving me the axe..."

"They're not," Farrier reassured.

"Right.  _Ha_..." Collins said, shaking his head almost in disbelief.  "Right.  _Of course not._   All you or your agent have to do is wave your little wands, and then _presto change-o_...!  It's like the world bends to your wills...like magic!"

Farrier winced at the sarcasm, but it didn't anger him.  He felt that he more than deserved any harsh words Collins might feel inclined to throw his way at that moment.  Collins sighed.

"Sorry..." he murmured, shaking his head.  "I'm being rather hard on you, aren't I?"

"What?  _No_...!" Farrier said, shaking his head.  "No, not at all, Jim.  With the way things are right now—it's _perfectly understandable_ , the way you're reacting..."

"But it's not entirely you're fault either..." Collins said with a small, helpless shrug.  "I keep forgetting that I need to be the one keeping things straight for both of us in this relationship, I..."

 _I'm the one with the 'normal' life to resume, after_ , Collins didn't say, but Farrier heard the unspoken words somehow, all the same.  The actor grimaced.

"So..." Farrier said, turning over his cell phone in his hand and running his thumb along the screen.  "Shall I call for the chopper, or...?"

"Let's just pack up the campsite and make our way back down to the car," said Collins.  "You said it should be waiting for us?"

"It should," Farrier said with a nod, quickly typing out a message to Melinda to confirm their plans.  "To the hotel in London then?"

"Yes," Collins said, looking a bit tired now.  "Yes...and I suppose I should probably see about finding a seat on the next earliest flight out to Manchester.  I'm afraid I'm a tad tuckered out from taking all these long car rides...I think."

"Yes, of course," Farrier murmured, typing out further requests to Melinda, to arrange a flight for Collins to be ready shortly after their arrival back into the city.  "Don't you worry about any of the travel arrangements now, Jim...allow me at the very least to make things up to you by taking care of all that."

"Sure," Collins said with a small nod.  "I've no objections on my end..."

"Good," Farrier said as he finally made his way out of the tent.

"Shall we pack up the campsite?" Collins asked.

Farrier shook his head.  "Don't bother," he said.  "I had help getting it out here in the first place.  I can...call them again.  Not one of our top priorities, after all."

"...all right," Collins said with a nod, too tired to argue.  "Then shall we be off...?"

Farrier nodded.  "Come, follow me."

They were both relatively quiet on their way back to the car, which was indeed waiting for them nearby where they had left it behind the night before.  Melinda, in her foresight, had made sure the driver of the car had been setup someplace close by, so that it wouldn't have taken him long to drive back to the meeting point at any time necessary.  The car ride back to London was also pretty silent, with Farrier brooding over the disastrous chain of events and Collins contemplative.

It was after they'd reached Collins' hotel, with the blonde packing up his suitcase and checking out, when the pair of them finally exchanged words on their ride to the airport.  It was Collins whose words sliced through the thick air, and what he said made Farrier's heart plummet.

"I think we need to take a break," Collins said quietly.

Farrier whipped his head to face the other.  "What...?" he asked, brows furrowed together instantly.

Collins looked pained.  "Please...don't misunderstand," he said.  "I can still keep my end of the bargain.  You know...for those times where you actually need me."

"When I 'actually' need you...?" Farrier asked, the man's words throwing him off so much that he was unable to do anything else but parrot back what was being said to him.

Collins nodded, then looked down at his hands.  " _Yes_..." he mumbled softly.  "For when you need a piece on your arm.  For publicity and all that."

Farrier frowned more deeply.  "A 'piece on my arm'...?" he repeated, his voice experiencing a slight uptick of anger that was starting to simmer within him.  "That's what you think you are?"

"That's what I signed up for, isn't it?" Collins said back, tilting his chin up slightly in mild defiance. 

"Well, that may be true, but—"

"—when all this is said and done, Hugh," Collins said, cutting the other man off effectively through use of his name.  "We've agreed to go our separate ways.  You will keep on living as you have done, and I will need to go back and resume my ordinary way of living.  And that, of course, relies on the fact that I have something to come back _to_."

Farrier recoiled at this, for those words felt like venom.  Collins went on.

"While you and your agency have been most generous in the amount with which you've been compensating me, the truth of the matter is, even if I were to spend it all sparingly, it won't last me forever," said the blonde.  "I'm still going to need my job, you see, and not to mention I quite like what I do.  Fixing up planes—building them—I rather enjoy all of that.  At my current position I've got a good working environment...reasonable benefits...it's close to where I live...you see?  I'd rather not have to give up any of that...or have to hunt for another position because I've let myself get carried away in all this fame business."

With each callous word he spoke, Collins could feel him curl in on himself.  Seeing the hurt in Farrier's eyes, he wanted so much to take the words back; to believe that the other man really was as affected as him about this.  _But really_ , Collins thought to himself.  _Perhaps this was for the best_.  _This could be the moment that sets their foundation for the breakup announcement they would inevitably have to make in three months time_.  _No time like the present, or so they say_.

Farrier's jaw set, and his voice was tight when he spoke again.  "You honestly mean that?" he asked.  "You truly feel that we should be spending more time further apart?"

"Well that's the direction we've preordained for ourselves, isn't it?" Collins challenged, referencing once again the terms of their agreement, the thing that started all of this.  "It's not that I no longer wish to cooperate with you, just...I really don't think I can afford any more of these 'extracurriculars,' here..."

"Extra— _haa_..." Farrier said, shaking his head half in disbelief and the other half perhaps a bit irritated.  " _Hm_..."

They were nearing the airport.  Collins bit down gently on the inside of his cheek.  Farrier started to nod then, his gaze averted from the blonde's sea-green eyes.

"A fine choice of words there, mate."

 _Mate_.  Not 'darling,' not 'dove,' not 'Jim.'  Not even any kind of pet name of the sort, really.  This was more casual.  More frank.  Collins hated to admit it, but the dismissiveness of the word and the other man's tone stung more than it should have. 

The car finally stopped, having pulled up to one of the entrances to the airport.  Their driver got out wordlessly, went to the back, and popped open the trunk, pulling out Collins' suitcase out without prompting.  Collins began unbuckling his seatbelt.

"So I take it we've agreed, then," Collins mumbled, refusing to look Farrier in the eyes for reasons different than what the actor was assuming in that very moment.  The blonde was afraid he was going to lose his resolve.  Farrier just interpreted this as Collins simply wanted nothing to do with him after his blunder with the schedule today.  It made Farrier feel bitter; how little it seemed all those times they shared several intimate, physical moments seemed to matter to the other man, cumulatively.  "You don't call me unless you're in for me to fulfill my role.  No more Sunday outings.  No more secret rendezvous outside of working hours unless, in fact, they are not so secret and truly necessary to help with your film promotions."

Farrier suddenly felt the extreme need to go find the nearest gym location and just _punch_ something.  "All right," he said rather tightly, despite a voice screaming loudly inside his head not to agree to such strict terms.  "Business contact only."

Collins nodded, though this time it was with a bit less conviction.  The adrenaline was already starting to drain slowly from him.

"We have an accord, then," he said.

"Seems so," said Farrier.

"Your bag, sir," the driver said to Collins as soon as the blonde man stepped outside of the car.

Collins nodded at the man gratefully and accepted his carryon.  "Thank you."

Shutting the car door behind him, Collins extended the handlebar of his rollaway, and he began to make his way inside the airport without once looking back.  When the blonde man had completely disappeared from view, Farrier let his head thump back against the headrest of his seat.

" _Shit_..." he cursed softly.

"Where to, sir?" his driver asked, as soon as he buckled in again at the front.

Farrier sighed and shook his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket and starting a new text message to Melinda.  "To the agency, I suppose," Farrier said, waving a hand about dismissively before bringing it back down to his screen to help with typing out words.  "I've now got a matter to take care of."

"Of course, sir," his driver said in reply before starting the car back up and driving off.

* * *

Melinda watched with a neutral expression as Farrier paced back and forth across her office floor.  The man's face reflected a deep state of concentration.

"Will."

"He broke up with me this morning," Farrier said, shaking his head.  

Melinda quirked an eyebrow at this.  "That would require the two of you having been in a relationship."

"Right."

"But you're not," said Melinda.  "You've never been.  This has always been a contract."

"That's what he essentially said!" Farrier exclaimed, exasperated.  "And he wants us to now more strictly adhere to the terms of it."

"Which works in our favor, doesn't it?" his agent asked.  "Start the distance early; it'll make the eventual breakup announcement look more believable.  We can put out as a press release the standard excuse that there was 'too much strain from the conflicting of schedules,' which in a way wouldn't be too far off the mark, really."

Farrier stopped in his tracks, turned towards his agent, and gave her a look as if he'd just been slapped.  "What?"

"I mean think about it, Will," said Melinda.  "Say he keeps things up at the pace you both were going at instead.  When the contract period is said and done with, what were you planning on doing then?"

Farrier's jaw tensed.  "...what?" he repeated, but this time, his tone lost a bit of its edge.

"You're a smart man—you know exactly what I'm asking here," Melinda said dryly.  "So don't dodge the question and just answer it.  What were you planning to do about Collins after the contract concluded?"

" _Do_...?" Farrier said, shaking his head.  He hadn't really thought that question through, if he were going to be honest with himself.  "I don't know...continue on as we were?"

Melinda quirked an eyebrow.  "In contract?"

"Well..."

Melinda looked contemplative over his response.  "Does he know?" she asked after a moment.

"Know what?" Farrier asked with a frown.  "I don't follow."

His agent sighed.  "Never mind," she said.  "This isn't exactly a priority right now.  You've got a promotional schedule to prepare for.  You have several interviews and a few photo shoots lined up over the course of the next couple of weeks."

"I do?" asked Farrier.

"Yes, you do," Melinda said as she rummaged through her portfolio and produced a sheet of paper which she nudged across her desk in Farrier's direction.  "All the details you need to know are here.  Schedule may fluctuate over time, as you well know of our business."

"Sure," Farrier said with a nod as he scanned over the contents of the paper.  "I see...this starts tomorrow."

"Problem?"

Farrier shook his head.  "No.  None at all," he replied.  "I suppose I could use the distraction."

"You could," Melinda agreed.  "Now off with you!  I have to make a call."

"You're charming as ever, Mel," Farrier said as he began to make his way out of the room.

"As long as you know!" Melinda called back, waiting for the door to shut behind Farrier completely before pulling out her phone.

She rapidly scrolled through her contacts until she found the one she was looking for.  The person she was trying to reach answered within two rings.  Melinda smiled.

"Ah, yes.  _Rupert_ ," Melinda said, her voice saccharine.

 _"Oh no,"_ Rudy chortled.  _"I'd know that tone anywhere, Mel—you're up to something, aren't you?"_

"Tell me—do they still hold those community events at St. Joseph's?" asked Melinda.

 _"What, the primary school?"_ Rudy asked her.  _"Out there in Brighton?"_

"Yes."

 _"Well, I don't know,"_ said Rudy.  _"Obviously, since I haven't set foot in my hometown for a couple of years.  I suppose I could look into it, why?"_

"I just remember you taking us there once," said Melinda.  "When we were encouraged to do a community service project for a class..."

 _"Right.  When we both thought for a brief second that our stint was going to be education,"_ laughed Rudy.  _"And I suggested we obtain our service hours back there since my mother was a schoolteacher employed by them at the time—yes, I remember now.  Ol' Giles Murray was a quack with his methods."_

"Yes, yes, that's not the point," said Melinda.

_"What be the point then, lass?"_

"Really, Rudy?" Melinda said, scrunching her nose.  "Your foreign accents are _terrible_."

There was more laughter on the other end.  _"God I forgot how fun it was to mess with you, Melon."_

"You're a downright prat, Rupert Sullivan," Melinda said, shaking her head. 

 _"So I'm often told, princess!"_ said Rudy.  _"Now tell me what's all this about, then?  You calling me out of the blue, wanting to know if a community event is still being held at some random school...unless?!  Is this your roundabout way of trying to ask me out on a—"_

"Stop right there, Rupert, or I _swear_...!" Melinda said, holding up a hand in warning, despite knowing the man wouldn't be able to see.  "Lord knows no woman in their right mind would come near you with a ten-foot pole."

_"Aw, you wound me, Melon."_

" _Especially_ when you insist on addressing them by the name of a fruit," Melinda huffed.

_"You like it, crumpet."_

"I do not," Melinda said pointedly.  "And I'm starting to get the sense that all you ever think about is food."

 _"Among other things,"_ said Rudy.  _"So..."_

"Right, to the point," Melinda said, shaking her head.  Rudy had to be the only person in the world who could always effectively make her talk in circles.  "Something's come up that I need your help with, and specifically I have this little idea..."

* * *

The next day, Collins made absolute sure to be at work right on time.  He worked the hardest he had ever done in his life, and for a few days after that, all he could think about was doing the best job he could each day.  A few weeks went by, however, without a single call from Farrier or his agent, and as Collins plugged away at his tasks he soon found his mind occasionally wandering.  Every-so-often he would catch himself thinking about Farrier, and Collins would try to shake himself from it; _the man was busy, after all_ , he tried to tell himself.  _And so was he_.

That didn't change the fact that he slowly began to realize that he was miserable, though.  It used to be enough for Collins, to wake up and go to work.  Do his job and then come right back home again.  To wash up, relax, and then rinse and repeat the next day, and every day after that.  He used to be content.  Collins had no idea when it started to seem all so mundane.  Or why he felt so hopeful every time he took a glance at his phone whenever it buzzed, though these days it was usually from an email or a text message from friends.  Speaking of which, at some point he'd gotten reconnected with some of his old mates from university; they'd go out for drinks every once in a while.  These were things Collins wasn't really all too keen on doing before, being the introvert that he was, and even his friends had been surprised by the change at first.  They had gotten used to the fact that Collins was more of a hermit crab, and although they had always made sure to keep him in the loop on their social antics, they'd never dreamed that he would one day ask to join in with them. 

What they didn't know, of course, was that being with Farrier was what had changed him.  Something had awakened within Collins; something he hadn't realized he'd been without before.  The benefits that came with human interaction.  Distancing from Farrier had left a void.  Collins had hoped keeping his social calendar as busy as his work life would fill it.  Of course, he was wrong.  It wasn't the same, somehow, to spend all this time doing things he normally wouldn't or would rather typically never do with others.  It didn't bring him the same sense of fulfillment that he knew he would have, had he done any of these same things with Farrier.  The trips to the bar.  A spontaneous trip to a soccer game.  Staying in line with a few friends, ready to go see some indie band in concert that he had never heard of.  These were all exciting things, of course, on the surface, and yet the experiences themselves felt rather hollow to Collins.  And at the end of the day, he always found himself desperately needing to crawl back into his bed, curl beneath the covers and be in serious need of a recharge.  Being exposed to Farrier for so long had messed him up, somehow, Collins eventually realized.  Internally. 

Collins sighed and stopped what he was working on at the moment, closing his eyes and resting his forehead gently against the back of his wrist.  He was sure he only closed his eyes for just the barest of minutes.

"James."

Collins jerked his head back upon hearing his name, blinking as he turned around to see who had called him.  It was one of his coworkers, who was looking on at him in concern.

"You all right there, mate?" the other man asked.  "You've been standing there like that for quite a while."

"R-really?" Collins asked, wondering how that could be.

His coworker nodded.  "Yeah, you have," he confirmed.  "For at least a solid twenty minutes."

"Jeezus, I had no idea!" said Collins. 

And he really hadn't.  To him, it had only felt like he'd been standing there for something more like three to six minutes.  His coworker shook his head.

"You should tell Boss if you feel like you've taken too many things on," the man said, clapping a hand on Collins' shoulder as he passed by.  "Don't overwork yourself now, Jimmy.  Wouldn't want yer boyfriend's 'razzi to come hounding over here at first word you've collapsed or something and cause a scandal for our business, eh?"

It was meant to be a lighthearted joke, but Collins didn't really feel like laughing.  Still, he forced himself to crack a smile, knowing the other man meant perfectly well.

"I'll try to keep my head on straight," he promised.

His coworker laughed.  "Yeah, you do that, mate," he said.  "And if you need help from time-to-time from any one of us, just know that all you need to do is shout, yeah?"

"Yeah, you've got it, Eddie," Collins said with a nod.  "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

* * *

"Are we rolling?"

"No, not yet."

"Okay."

"And now we will be—in three...two...one..."

The ' _go_ ' mouthed by the cameraman was silent.  Farrier quietly adjusted himself in his seat, having up to that point simply watched the short exchange between the cameraman and his interviewer.  The woman seated across from him smiled.

"Well, Mr. Farrier!  It is a great pleasure to have you here with us today," she began, all chipper.

Farrier forced on his best smile for the rolling cameras.  "Yes," he said with a slight nod.  "The pleasure is all mine, really."

"Well, aren't you the perfect gentleman!" his interviewer said, smiling brightly with her teeth.  "So tell us, Mister—"

" _Please_ ," Farrier said, holding up a hand to stop her for a moment.  "No need to be so formal about this.  Call me 'William.'"

"Ah, yes, of course," the interviewer said, nodding.  " _William_."

Quite honestly, Farrier could have gagged, but this was all part of the job, he knew.  To schmooze with the press; give the public a glimpse of his good side, only.

"Tell us about your role in _The King's Champion_."

"Right," Farrier said, straightening his posture in his chair.  "Well, in this, I play a pilot."

"Charlie."

"That's right," Farrier said with a nod.  "Charles Louis Pearce."

"And your co-star?"

"Oh," Farrier said, taking a moment to think.  "You're asking about the one who takes off to the skies alongside me?"

"Correct," the interviewer said with a nod.  "That very one."

"Just making sure," said Farrier.  "Hank's got the role of Jack Lawrence Dawson."

"Bright, young, and doe-eyed."

"Hm," Farrier hummed.

"They say the two of you have a lot of great chemistry in the scenes where you're fighting your Axis counterparts up there, in the air," said the interviewer.

Farrier shrugged.  "Yeah, I suppose I've heard that," he said rather dismissively, perhaps more so than he had meant to.  "I try my best to get along with my co-stars, no matter what film."

"Must be tough for the boyfriend, eh?"

Farrier just barely stopped himself from narrowing his eyes.  He could almost hear Melinda's voice in the back of his mind.

 _"Oh there it goes, the question,"_ he'd bet she'd say in that moment now.  _"All right, well, don't take the bait, William, you know that.  Just keep smiling...act like the questions they're asking are perfectly normal and not invasive at all..."_

"Right, well, he doesn't exactly watch any of my movies," Farrier said before he could stop himself.

It was a mistake, and he knew it the instant he'd said it.  The interviewer suddenly leaned forward in her seat, and Farrier noted for the first time that the woman was rather unattractively hawkish.

" _Really_...?" she said, her voice dripping with keen interest.  "Not a one?"

Farrier tried not to grimace.  "Not one for movies in general, really," he said in response.  "He prefers books, actually."

"I see...!" the interviewer said, and Farrier wished she would say something blatantly offensive, just so he could have the excuse to get up and cut the interview short.  "Well, I suppose there's a lot of trust, in your relationship."

"Naturally," Farrier said, it taking all his willpower not to openly bristle.  "He's absolutely lovely."

Oddly enough, that turned out to be the distraction he needed.  The interviewer immediately changed tracks, now having been given this information.  It took two seconds for Farrier to realize that the slight shift in their conversation wasn't necessarily any better for him in the long run.

"You sound quite fond of him."

"How long have you both been together?" the interviewer asked.  "The public only just learned of your relationship a few months ago, but rumor has it the two of you have been together for much longer than that.  Isn't that correct?"

Farrier was thankful that Collins would most likely never catch wind of this interview, due to his backwards habits when it came to anything remotely technological.  He also recalled how little Collins was fond of lying for the sake of their charade, so he went for a bit vague.

"Seems like an age, really," said Farrier.  "Sorry to say that I can't give you an exact date.  We like to keep our private lives private, you see—it's how we've been able to stay under the radar for so long."

 _To make something sound completely like truth, you've got to mix a little bit of it in with the lie_ , Farrier mused to himself.  He watched as the interviewer's eyes lit up, like she'd caught some exclusive.  He nearly rolled his eyes.  If he were being honest, despite relying on them to help ensure his bread and butter, Farrier, like most other celebrities, had little actual love for the press. 

"Yes, though I'm sure it's been a relief, these past few months, since the reveal," said the interviewer.  "To be able to be more open with each other while interacting in public, now that your relationship is known and all."

 _It was a blessing and a curse_ , Farrier didn't admit aloud.  For if his ex had never caused that scene at the hotel, he and Collins probably wouldn't be where they were today.  Though at the same time, aside from what they were under the terms of the contract, they weren't really anything at all. 

"Yes, of course," Farrier said, trying not to sound too dismissive about it.  He was here to promote his film, after all, not talk about his pseudo-love life.  "But if you don't mind...perhaps we could get back on track?  Talking about _The King's Champion?_ "

"Oh!  Yes, of course...!" the interviewer replied, clearly disappointed, but reasonable enough to force back on an air of professionalism.  "Perhaps for our viewers who are just now learning about this latest project of yours...could you give us a few sentences about the general plot?"

Now _that_ , he was comfortable with answering.  Farrier nodded.

"Certainly," he began.  "The year is set, for the film, in the year 1939..."

* * *

And so it went on, for the pair of them.  Both Collins and Farrier, in their own way, engrossed themselves very heavily into their work.  Several weeks went by, with the two men carrying on in their separate daily routines.  It was sometime after Collins was starting to think he could get used to his life being quiet and mundane again, when he received a call from Rupert, early one Saturday afternoon.

 _"Jimmy!"_ Rudy's voice came through cheerily.

Collins bit back a groan.  A call from his friend often meant trouble, sure, but whenever Rupert was this excited about something, that trouble was almost certainly guaranteed. 

He answered warily, in a bit of a resigned voice.  "...what is it, Rupert?"

 _"You're cross!"_ Rudy said, his voice sounding comically confused.  _"How's that even possible, mate!  I've only just called you!"_

"Yeah, well I haven't heard from you in _weeks_ , so..." said Collins.  "To hear from you after some period of quiet, well...forgive me if I'm a little concerned about what it is that you might be planning this time."

 _"Aw, come on now, ol' buddy, ol' pal...!"_ said Rudy.  _"Don't be like that!"_

"I can be however I'd like," Collins said, shaking his head.  "So what's up your sleeve, then?"

 _"Now why do you have to make me sound so dastardly?"_ Rudy sniffed.

"Because you're a devil, Rupert," said Collins.  "You are absolutely the devil incarnate."

_"You wound me!"_

"You'll recover," Collins said dryly.  "You always do."

 _"Just because it's true, doesn't mean you should say it!"_ Rudy said with a dramatic huff, though true to Collins' prediction, he 'recovered' rather quickly.  _"Now then, let's talk about this community service project we need to have you on."_

"... _what?_ " Collins asked, not necessarily expecting an abrupt jump in their conversation, just like that.

 _"You're still under contract, boyo!"_ said Rudy.  _"Farrier's agent called in—said she's added some community service project to the man's schedule.  Thought it would be a good 'couple' activity for the two o' you.  Boost people's general opinion of the actor's character, and well, give the 'razzi a little something to put out in the papers too, yeah?"_

Collins let out a sigh; he wasn't exactly ready to see the other man again, but he knew he was bound to his word as a gentleman, to keep up his end of the deal until it was done.  He nodded, forgetting his friend couldn't exactly see from the other  end.

"So what's the project?" he asked.

 _"Oh!  Well, we're gon' a have you and Farrier go down close to the coast; you'll be tasked with spending some time with a few primary students down there,"_ said Rudy.  _"Down in Brighton."_

Collins blinked.  "That's kind of random...oh, wait a second.  Isn't that where you're originally from?"

 _"Ding, ding, ding!  Quite right, mate!   You're quite right!"_ said Rudy.  _"And it's thanks to my connections there that I was able to arrange this project you two are about to complete together."_

"Wonderful..." said Collins, whose sarcasm went completely over his friend's head.  

* * *

Which was how he ended up here, he supposed, four days later on a Wednesday, at a school somewhere in Brighton.  Currently playing a prince in some little girl's game of make-believe.  Collins had managed to receive permission from his work for a single day off.

" _Here_ ," she said, holding out a strip of paper.  "Give me your hand."

Farrier was working with some other kids elsewhere in the room, which was just as well, Collins supposed.  Their ride over to the school had been a bit awkward; their interactions with each other had been far more tentative than they had been in the past, although they had both played it up for the cameras upon arriving.  At one point, Farrier had kissed him gently while breathing in his scent deeply, against his neck.  Collins had wanted to turn into a puddle on the ground, but he had managed to keep his composure.

Returning his focus to the task at hand, he held out his hand obediently to this little girl in front of him, the princess in this scenario, who was looking at him quite seriously.  Collins truthfully found it rather endearing.  She wrapped the slip around his ring finger.

"Hold, please!" she demanded, and Collins did as she asked while the little girl got a pencil and made a couple marks on the paper.  She then pulled it off his finger and smiled.  "Thank you!"

"Of course," Collins said, somewhat bewildered.

The girl took a pair of scissors and began to make three cuts.  "Our teacher taught us how to make these!" she said as she made two little slits and then cut off some part of the paper she considered to be excess.

She then picked up another piece of paper which had a small design drawn on it and cut around the shape before taking a glue stick and sticking it onto said paper.  She then pointed at Collins' hand.  

"Hand again, please!" she said.

Collins did as she asked.  The girl then fit the makeshift ring onto his hand, using the slits to secure it in place.  She then leaned back and smiled.

"Perfect!" she said before holding out her hand.  "Now do mine, so that we can be married, my prince!"

Collins nearly laughed at the girl's cheekiness, but he didn't to avoid any misunderstandings and risk hurting her feelings.  So instead he quickly focused his attentions on making her a ring as well, then a crown, and then a scepter, because according to this little girl, 'a princess couldn't be a proper princess unless she had her scepter.'

At some point during all this, he and Farrier caught each other's gaze from across the room.  Collins didn't know why, but he felt the need to hold up his finger, donning the ring and giving the other man a sheepish smile and a small shrug.  Farrier raised an eyebrow in question at first, but then his expression changed to one of amusement and he mouthed a word to Collins, silently.

_"Congratulations."_

Collins didn't know why, but his heart warmed at that.  Perhaps because it felt like the first real word exchanged between them in days.

* * *

The ride back to London was calm, a little less tense, but still mostly quiet.  Although this time, despite both men looking out their respective windows for most of the ride, their hands perhaps met closer in the middle; their fingertips gently brushing at first, and then later entwining.

When it was time for them to part ways, Farrier kept his grip on the blonde's hand for a moment, confusing Collins, who looked at him questioningly.  "Yes?" he asked softly.  "What is it?"

"The cameras are still rolling, love," Farrier said, just as softly before pulling Collins in and crushing their lips together for a kiss.

It turned into something a lot more fervent than either of them had been expecting.  Collins made a light sound that sounded somewhere betwixt a whimper and a moan.  Farrier took this as a green light to deepen the passion, and soon he had brought up his hands to weave through Collins' hair with his fingers.  When the pair finally parted, they looked into each other's eyes, breathless.  Their chests both rose and fell somewhat rapid, their breathing slightly ragged.

 _I missed you_ , either of them wanted to say, but ultimately didn't.  Collins was the first one to break the silence.

"I should go..." he whispered.

 _Stay_ , Farrier thought to himself, but failed to say this word aloud.  Instead, he nodded and let go of Collins; albeit reluctantly.

"Very well," he said instead, wincing a little internally at how very formal that sounded to his ears.  "I, uh...I have a photo shoot in the morning, anyway."

"You do?" Collins asked.

"I do," Farrier said with a nod.  "Pool themed."

"So you'll be shirtless, I reckon," Collins said, surprising even himself with that small little quip.  "I'm sorry I'm missing it."

"You could come, if you'd like?" Farrier said, perhaps a little too quickly. 

Collins half-smiled at this.  "You know I can't," he whispered.

Farrier tried not to deflate.  He had used the idea that paparazzi were still hanging around them to his advantage before, but he hadn't actually been sure that they had stayed around.  Still, he wasn't going to take his chances and give them anything potentially juicy.  A single photograph could tell a story that was completely different from what was actually happening, after all.

Instead, he nodded in reply.  "And so it goes..." he murmured.

Collins surprised him, then, by crossing his wrists behind Farrier's neck and giving him a brief peck on the lips.  The blonde pulled back and looked at him.

"Cameras," he offered by way of explanation.

Farrier nodded.  "Cameras," he repeated, the excuse sounding hollow to his ears.

Collins then pulled away, _along with his warmth_ , Farrier decided.  The air always seemed colder around him whenever the blonde left his vicinity.  

"Best of luck," Collins whispered as he took a step back, ready to head back in the black car, which was tasked to take him home.  "Not that you'll need it."

"Oh, you'd be surprised, darling," said Farrier.  "These photo shoots often go for hours, just because it's so hard to get that 'perfect shot.'"

"Well, I'm sure you'll nail it," said Collins.

"Thank you, darling," said Farrier.  "I shall take those words to heart.  I hope you have a great day at work tomorrow."

Collins gave Farrier a small smile.  "Thanks," he said.

"Of course," Farrier said with a nod.

They lingered there with each other, for what seemed like a short while, then Farrier watched as Collins turned and slipped into the car.  He stood there until the car disappeared from view, and then he went inside his hotel.

The evening then seemed to go by quickly, for Farrier.  He barely recalled popping into the shower, and the next thing he knew, he had flopped into bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs, and then soon nodded off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning when he woke up, Farrier experienced an intense burning across his chest.  Frowning, Farrier fumbled out of bed and staggered to the bathroom, throwing on a light and letting his eyes adjust to the brightness.  It was still a few hours before he was due to be on set.

"Shit..." Farrier muttered softly to himself as he ran his fingers across his chest; the colors there were a mix of greens and purples.

The area was tender and appeared to be rather contused.  Farrier hissed at the sting when he pressed a little too hard against an area, and then muttered a few curses under his breath as he went back out into the main part of the hotel room in search of his phone.  He found it and picked it up from where he had hooked it to a charger the night before, on the nightstand, and called Melinda.

His agent answered within two rings.   _"Hello?"_

"We have a bit of a problem."

He could hear the rummaging of sheets as his agent adjusted herself in bed on the other end.   _"What?"_

"My chest," said Farrier.  "I don't know how, or why, but when I woke up this morning and took a look in the mirror, well...it appears I've garnered quite a bit of a bruise."

 _"Really?"_ Melinda asked, her voice filled with concern.   _"What did you do yesterday?  Did something happen at the school?"_

"No, not at all," said Farrier.  "I must have banged myself up somehow though; in my sleep."

_"Is it something we can cover up with concealer?"_

"Well, if we have a fucking lot of it, yeah."

_"Hm.  Well I suppose just get yourself over to the shoot as planned.  We'll assess the damage there and see if this is something that needs to be rescheduled."_

"Sounds like a plan."

_"Good.  Then see you in a few hours."_

Farrier then hung up the phone and released a small sigh before heading to his wardrobe to pick out some clothes.  Shaking his head, he muttered to himself.

"Grand fucking day, already..."

* * *

Melinda wasn't really one to hover or mother; especially not at this stage in Farrier's career.  So in a way, when Farrier arrived on set and saw her there, for a moment he felt like the tiniest thing was just out of place, but he got over it rather quickly.  He soon approached his agent, who was standing alongside a couple makeup artists at the ready, her arms folded across her chest and a finger tapping at an elbow somewhat impatiently.

"All right then," she said, nodding once towards his chest.  "Lift the shirt.  Let's see the damage."

Farrier nodded and peeled his shirt off.  At first, when he saw all the jaws drop, he thought it was in reaction to how bruised his chest was.  He soon came to learn that this was not at all the case when his agent spoke the following words, tone hushed.

"Oh, William..." Melinda said, shaking her head slowly.  "I don't think what you've got there is a bruise.  No, not at all."

"What?" Farrier asked with a frown before looking down at his chest.

His expression soon changed to one where his eyes widened, and when he looked up again, his jaw was just as much to the floor as the rest of them.  "It didn't look like that at all this morning, _I swear_."

Before his agent, or anyone else for that matter, could say another word, there was the unmistakable sound of a clicking shutter, followed by a flash of a camera, and everyone soon turned themselves around to spot a paparazzo, who had seemingly popped out from the bushes like he'd been hiding there all day.  Now he was sprinting away from the set like his ass was on fire.  Melinda reacted to this instantly.

"Don't just stand there!  After him!" she shouted as she rallied those among the photographer's staff.  She turned to Farrier and pointed at his chest before taking off herself in a sprint.  "And _you_ , cover that thing!  Put back on your shirt!"

Farrier quickly did as he was told, and then whirled back around to watch the whole chase go down, stunned.  He couldn't help but to marvel at the fact that Melinda was somehow chasing after the rogue cameraman, full on in heels.  It was rather impressive.

He watched as she chased the man off into the distance.  He saw the man jumped over a short wall, with Melinda surprisingly following suit after kicking off her heels, her adrenaline being enough to help her scale it barefoot and vault over it.  Farrier's heart only plummeted after he heard her shout of frustration come from the other side.

_"Shit!  Which way did he go?!  I've lost him!"_

The repercussions for this seemed to be instantaneous, as the next day the photograph, which had apparently been taken by someone who was working freelance, had wasted no time at all cashing in on his payday.  By the next morning, every major celebrity gossip magazine, tabloid, and webpage had an image of Farrier's chest circulating around in print and all over the Internet. There was an explosion on social media.  It was utter chaos.  

After all, soulmarks, in their day and age were considered to be a myth—they just didn't happen anymore.  No one had actually seen one up close in years.  Yet, here it was, living proof that the legend behind soulmarks perhaps had at least the smallest bit of truth to it.  And that proof had come, of course, in the form of a photograph of Farrier's once bare chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who haven't read [They Came Home Warriors](http://archiveofourown.org/series/795600), this fic features small nods here and there from scenes from that series, and I'm just building on the headcanon I've set there. Essentially, that series is their "past lives" referenced in this series. So if you're ever confused about the content of those flashbacks, reading those should help create a clearer picture for you.
> 
> We're getting pretty close to what I think might be the halfway point to this fic! Stay tuned~ More updates coming soon!


	8. It Ain't Love Without Scandal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Listen, Jimmy..."
> 
> "Hm?"
> 
> Rudy glanced over at his friend before returning his gaze back onto the road. "Speaking of soulmarks, y'know..."
> 
> "Mmhm."
> 
> "Do you, uh..." Rudy said, licking at his lips. "Think you might have one of them?"
> 
> "What?" Collins asked, brows furrowing together slightly, glancing over at his friend. "Are you asking me if I have a...?"
> 
> "A soulmark, yeah," Rudy said with a nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, this chapter is dedicated to **SarahHudson112**. I could never imagine going through what it is you are currently experiencing after such a disaster, and my thoughts and prayers are with you and your people. I'm sorry that all I really have to offer is this next chapter. Hope all is well and that things are improving.
> 
> For those curious what the soulmark looks like (if the image below isn't clear enough for you), the inspiration is [**here**](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5d/ad/4a/5dad4aa9ccb357203f2edcdd786be358.jpg). 
> 
> Threw together a fake magazine cover, just for kicks. Also included a tiny nod to one of Tom Hardy's previous roles, though his former co-star is in a role completely different from either of the films they co-starred in.
> 
> I also had a random thought for a new AU after this AU...although I'm not actually sure whether I'll get around to making it since I'm so behind all these other fics I have to write on other pseuds. We'll see, I suppose. Details are in the end notes. I didn't want the chapter's beginning author's note to be super long.

The top trending searches on all popular search engines and forms of social media were Farrier's name, Collins' name, and the concept of soulmarks.  People were going absolutely crazy trying to learn everything they could about the history of soulmarks.  Several celebrity gossip rags featured articles containing interviews from so-called "experts," who apparently knew all about them.  One such article went something like this:

> **SOULMARKS—FACT OR FICTION?**
> 
> You've seen it in movies and perhaps even read about it romanticized in countless books, although you're probably more familiar with the concept of "soulmates," which is where two people meet and seem to spark an instant connection.  These stories, of course, are immensely popular among certain demographics for their promises of "happily ever after."  But did you know that this idea spawned from an extremely rare phenomenon called "soulmarks"?  In fact, these soulmarks are so rare, people have dismissed stories about them as myths for centuries.  However, the recent and unexpected sighting of this scarce occurrence has captured the attention of romantics everywhere.
> 
> There's a lot we don't know about the concept, but what we here at the London Calling _do_ know, is information we obtained from a well-renowned expert in the subject, Clifton Douglas.  See our exclusive interview with them below!
> 
> **LV:** Thank you for joining us, Mr. Douglas.
> 
> **CD:** Please, please—call me Cliff.  No need to be so formal.
> 
> **LV:** [ _Laughter_ ] Very well then, Cliff.  We're happy to have you here with us.
> 
> **CD:** Yes, of course!  I appreciate the invitation.
> 
> **LV:** So you've been studying this phenomenon of soulmarks for a long time?
> 
> **CD:** I most certainly have!  And there is still so, so much more to uncover.
> 
> **LV:** Really!  Well, please do share with us what you know so far.
> 
> **CD:** [ _He smiles_ ] I am more than happy to share my knowledge.
> 
> **LV:** We appreciate it!  So tell us—just what are soulmarks, anyway?
> 
> **CD:** Well, they're exactly how they sound, actually!  Soulmarks are literally marks on the skin—the location of it varies from person to person—which signify that you're one of a set.  Someone you're destined to be with, in other words. 
> 
> **LV:** And this is a rare occurrence?
> 
> **CD:** Extremely. 
> 
> **LV:** Any idea why that is?
> 
> **CD:** Well, we're fortunate enough that this is the first such sighting in _years_ that we now have the opportunity to study, but the truth is, people who are knowledgeable on this subject will tell you—there's one clear thing what few written accounts that exist will tell you.  There's a common denominator—all of these accounts mention a much deeper connection between the partners than just simply being "the one."
> 
> **LV:** Oh?  And how's that?
> 
> **CD:** Well, the fascinating thing, is these people all claim that when touching their partner's marks, they are able to see a whole previous lifetime.  It is really suggestive of reincarnation.
> 
> **LV:** Reincarnation?!  _Surely_ you jest.
> 
> **CD:** No, I assure you, I am most serious.  Ask any other researcher in this field, and I guarantee you they will give you the same answer.  In fact, while a great many might find this purely romantic, some may also find the whole thing rather tragic.
> 
> **LV:** I'm not sure I follow...
> 
> **CD:** I was about to address that, of course.You see, the other major thing these couples have in common is that the past lives that they become aware of, usually show both partners experiencing some major obstacle they never quite overcame in their previous lifetime.  Maybe family members rejected their union.  Going further back in history, a loved one could have fallen ill from a virus.  One or both of the partners could have fallen in war.  Things like that.  So it almost seems like this lifetime is a second chance of sorts.
> 
> **LV:** Amazing, if it's true.
> 
> **CD:** Oh, it's true!  [ _Laughter_ ]  Although I suppose seeing _is_ believing...
> 
> **LV:** You mean with Will Farrier.
> 
> **CD:** Is that the actor's name?  [ _He laughs some more_ ]  I'm sorry—I don't quite follow pop culture, but _yes_.  That is, if we're talking about _him_ , the actor whose soulmark photo is now being circulated around the Internet.  I hear he was caught completely off-guard too, which is best, because it bolsters the authenticity of the photo.
> 
> **LV:** You think people might copycat this occurrence?
> 
> **CD:** Think?  I _know_ they will try to recreate this instance.  In fact, since this guy is an actor, I've no doubt in my mind that some obsessive fan of his will take a very close look at the picture and make an appointment at a tattoo parlor to try have it copied exactly.  Thing is though, even if they were to create an exact copy, there is a surefire way he'll know whether or not that person is actually his soulmate.
> 
> **LV:** And how is that?
> 
> **CD:** As I've mentioned before—when soulmates simultaneously touch the marks for the first time, they are said to share visions of their previous life.  This obviously wouldn't happen if one or both of the marks are fake.

The article seemed to drone on to Farrier.  He leafed through to the next big article, discussing the likelihood that he and Collins would remain together now that his soulmark had been revealed.  As Farrier read through the speculation, his lips began to curl in disgust; the writer was clearly trying to start some drama to make sure the magazine sold.  There was false information cited from bullshit sources that Farrier knew had no way of knowing things like whether or not Collins had the same mark, and whether they were actually on the rocks. 

That is, unless Melinda said something, Farrier realized.  He immediately chucked the magazine in the nearest trash bin and gave his agent a call.

Melinda answered within two rings.  _"Yes, William?"_

"The articles," Farrier said.  "You've read them?"

 _"I have,"_ Melinda said, clipped, and Farrier had a difficult time discerning whether she was being snippy with him or the situation.  He soon got his answer.  _"It's a mess of a PR disaster, really.  Almost makes you wish you had a magic wand or something; to black it all out."_

Farrier released a small sigh of relief.  "So you weren't the one who authorized the interview," he said.  "Ordered the leaks."

His agent sounded genuinely confused.  _"Interview?"_ she asked, bewildered.  _"Leaks?  What leaks?  No!  I most certainly haven't given the green light on anything!  We're still trying to figure things out at headquarters—have a plan of attack in place."_

"Good," Farrier murmured. 

_"Hm?  What is?"_

"You weren't the ones."

_"Weren't the ones?  You're going to have to be more specific than that, Will.  I don't quite follow what you mean."_

Farrier let out another sigh and ran a hand through his hair.  "The London View," he said.  "Have you read it?"

His lips quirked slightly at the corners upon hearing the obvious frown Melinda was sporting, clear in her voice.  _"The London—?  That trash tabloid that tries to tout itself as news?!"_

Farrier couldn't help chuckling softly at the disgust in her voice.  "Thank you, Mel..."

 _"For what?"_ Melinda asked, and Farrier could hear the shuffling of papers from the other end.  He correctly guessed she was trying to see if anyone in her office had obtained a copy of it that morning while they assessed the damage from the various outlets.  _"Christ!  Harvey!  Where's the blasted gossip rag pile?!"_

"For sounding so scandalized," Farrier said, sure that he sounded as tired as he felt, in that moment.  "I only hope that Jim hasn't seen it..."

 _"How bad is it?"_ Melinda asked, sounding concerned.

"They basically prophesy that our relationship will fall apart shortly," Farrier said glumly.  "If the glass slipper is found not to fit, so to speak..."

 _"Bloody paparazzi!"_ Melinda cursed.  _"If it weren't a crime, I would hunt that bastard down and skin him!"_

"Now, now..." Farrier said as he slowly made his way to a chair; for some reason he was starting to feel a bit lightheaded.  "We wouldn't want any reason to place you on Scotland Yard's radar...yes?"

 _"Fie!  Like I'd be stupid enough to use any traceable methods,"_ Melinda scoffed.  _"Listen, William.  You stay there at home and relax for a couple of days.  I've rescheduled all the remaining stops on your promotional tour, and I've called Rupert to check in on James Collins."_

"Mm," Farrier mumbled in return, closing his eyes and rubbing at his temple as he sat down on a sofa.  "Right...thanks."

 _"Listen though—I have to go for the time being, but I'll check back up on you soon, yes?"_ said Melinda.  _"Call if you need anything before?"_

"Thanks, Melon," Farrier said with a half-smile.

 _"...it's been a shit couple of days,"_ Melinda said, though it wasn't like she was trying to keep the affection out of her voice.  _"I'll give you a free pass on that one."_

"Much obliged," said Farrier.

 _"You take care of yourself, Will,"_ said Melinda.  Farrier chuckled softly when he heard his agent shout something to someone in the background just before she ended the call.  _"Anna!  Would you please come here and just—!"_

Farrier sighed and slumped in his chair, bringing his phone down from his ear.  Using a thumb, he brought up his text messages and composed one, typing with just the one finger before pressing send.  He then placed the cell phone on a table that was beside of him and then closed his eyes again, rubbing at them with his fingers, quietly wishing he could tamper down the dull throb that felt as if it were pulsing on the side of his head.

 _I need to see you_ , was the message he had sent to Collins.  While waiting for the message, Farrier slowly drifted off without realizing it.  When he opened his eyes again, he was experiencing one of those strange otherworldly visions again.

* * *

This vision was different from any of the ones Farrier had experienced before, in that for the first time, it had less of a dreamy haze and felt more like he was actually there in the moment.  For a short spell, Farrier couldn't help but to marvel at how real the wood floor felt beneath his bare feet. 

_"Hugh...!"_

Farrier turned to the sound of the voice.  He squinted at the bright light coming from behind the person who had spoken.  It was preventing him from seeing the man's face clearly.

His mouth moved on its own.  "What is it, darling?"

Farrier inwardly frowned.  His voice sounded almost old; weathered.  He glanced down at his feet once again.  _So this was one where he was on the older end of things_ , he noted briefly to himself.  He wished he could see the face of the man speaking to him.  If there was one thing his visions were frustratingly consistent of, it was his inability to see the face of the man who permeated them. 

As if taunting him, the man stood in place.  When Farrier tried to move, he found that he couldn't.  Apparently he was meant to remain stationary in this dream.

_"I wish you wouldn't push yourself so hard, love."_

For the first time, Farrier felt the pain.  He looked down at his hands, surprised.  _Had he always had difficulty moving them?  Bending his fingers back and forth?_   He wondered.  His joints felt inflamed.  An odd feeling gripped his chest; a feeling that seemed to squeeze his heart.  It was an emotion he couldn't articulate.  Not in that moment.  He looked up at the man addressing him; lips once again moving on their own.

"I'm sorry for being so useless..."

 _"No!"_ the other exclaimed, and Farrier jumped slightly in surprise at the outburst.  _"No, Hugh...I just—I wish...!"_

Farrier frowned; he wished he knew why the other man sounded so distressed.  He took a step forward.

" _Don't_ blame yourself," were the words that came out of his mouth next.  He managed to close the gap between them; pulling the other man in for an embrace.  Farrier marveled at how he still failed to see the other man's face.  "There's nothing you could have done."

He squeezed tighter when the other man replied; his response seemed so broken.  _"But...!"_

" _No_ ," Farrier said, his tone firm.  "Let's not keep dwelling on things we can never go back and change.  Focus on the now.  I'm here.  _You're_ here...and _that_...!"

He pulled back, but the sun apparently was still too bright for his eyes to make out someone who was just before him.  For a fleeting moment, Farrier wondered if his dreams were taunting him.

"I wouldn't trade that for _anything_ , darling," Farrier said before leaning in towards the other man's face.  "So _please_ stop blaming yourself."

He closed his eyes then, and went in for the kiss.  There was something warm and yet mournful about it. 

When Farrier next opened his eyes, he was back in the present.

* * *

_I need to see you._

The words seemed to glare back at him on his cell phone screen.  Collins' jaw tensed, and he put his phone away, deciding not to respond to the message.  He was having a rough day at work, and his head wasn't clear.

He hadn't noticed the change initially, when he first arrived at work.  He'd been so lost in his thoughts lately, he somehow failed to take note of all the recent buzz surrounding himself and Farrier.  Gradually, though, as the day progressed, Collins began to notice the little things. 

A subtle bump to the shoulder by a coworker, one who had never been fond of him anyway, but now it seemed they were being more obvious in their dislike.  Extra work piled onto his workstation by another.  At first he thought he was being paranoid, but such incidents built up throughout the day, to the point where Collins could no longer write them off as mere coincidences. 

The confirmation came in the form of whispers in the break room.  Collins had been about to step inside to grab his lunch out of the communal fridge when he heard voices inside.  Not knowing why, he felt uncharacteristically compelled to stop and listen in, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with a sense of foreboding.  His mind busy with a flurry of thoughts, it took him a moment to register what was being said.  He noted three male voices and one female.

_"—no one will stand by him now."_

_"Serves him right!  Always acting like he's privileged."_

_"Not to mention I've never been a fan of poofs."_

Collins unconsciously bit the inside of his cheek.  One of his hands at his side slowly curled into a fist.

_"Yeah, I was just tolerating him because I thought maybe if we hang around him long enough, we might be able to reap some benefits from that rich bloke he's fuckin'!"_

_"Exactly!  You thought that too?!  It's a shame though.  They'll probably break up soon."_

_"What?  How do you figure that?"_

_"Welllll...there's been no report of him having a mark like that actor does.  My guess is, that means he doesn't have the matching mark."_

_"Think that really matters?"_

_"I've heard Will Farrier's a hopeless romantic."_

_"And where did you hear that?"_

_"I read all the most reliable tabloids religiously."_

_"There's such a thing as a 'reliable' tabloid?"_

_"Translation—she's a woman.  Oof.  Hey!"_

_"That's what you get!"_

The banter went on.  Collins found himself inching slowly backward; his appetite having become lost. 

The rest of the day seemed to go by at the breakneck pace of a slug's run.  Collins moved mechanically; getting the job done, of course, but not with the usual degree of focus.  Thankfully, there were no glaring errors in his work, as his tasks for the day dealt mostly with the mundane.  When Rudy asked if he wouldn't mind being picked up, Collins had more than happily accepted the ride.

Everything suddenly made complete sense to Collins shortly after he popped into his friend's car on the front passenger's side.  Rudy tossed a celebrity gossip rag onto his lap.  Collins looked down at it with a blink.

"Judging by your reaction, I'm assuming you haven't seen this yet," Rudy said as he began to drive them along.

Collins shook his head.  "No," he said.  "I mean, well...you know me."

Rudy nodded.  "I do."

Collins ran his fingertips over the front cover, staring at the bold headlines about himself and Farrier.  " _Shit_...!" he couldn't help marveling a little, despite himself.  "If you'd a told me I'd be so much as a cover story last spring's end..."

"You never would o' believed me," Rudy agreed.  "Yeah, Jimmy, I know.  I'm surprised you still don't keep up with these things."

Collins shrugged as he leafed through the pages, a tad morbidly curious at what was written about them.  "I'm not exactly a narcissist."

"This is about being well informed," said Rudy.

Collins snorted softly.  " _Really_ ," he asked, tone mildly incredulous.  "Is that what you call this?"

"Well, what would you call it, then?"

Collins scanned the first few lines.  He sucked in a short breath when he spotted the image of Farrier's soulmark.  He trailed his fingertips lightly over the image.  His face felt lightly flushed, and the heat seemed to run down his neck and down to the space between his shoulder blades.

"Gives you the chills, dunnit?" Rudy asked.  "Soulmarks, Jimmy.  The shit they harp on in those romantic comedies girls go nuts over.  They're supposed to be myths."

"Yet here it is..." Collins said, somewhat dryly.

"Mm."

A brief silence settled between them.  At some point, when they were waiting at a light, Rudy looked intently ahead, absentmindedly tapping at his steering wheel with his index fingers.  When the light turned and they were on the move again, Rudy spoke.

"Listen, Jimmy..."

"Hm?"

Rudy glanced over at his friend before returning his gaze back onto the road.  "Speaking of soulmarks, y'know..."

"Mmhm."

"Do you, uh..." Rudy said, licking at his lips.  "Think you might have one of them?"

"What?" Collins asked, brows furrowing together slightly, glancing over at his friend.  "Are you asking me if I have a...?"

"A soulmark, yeah," Rudy said with a nod.

Collins' expression darkened then.  "...no," he mumbled, shaking his head and turning to look out the window instead.  "No, I do not."

"Well have you checked?" asked Rudy.  "I mean, if his didn't show until now—"

Collins sighed.  "Unless something's happened while at work, which I doubt it has, then I'm pretty sure everything's the same as it's been all this time," he said.  "I don't have a soulmark, Rudy.  Much less one that matches his."

The words tasted more bitter in his mouth than he'd anticipated.  Rudy clamped his mouth shut.  The rest of the ride was spent in a stagnant silence, with one man wishing to offer words of comfort, but not knowing how, and the other wondering how it was things could get as twisted as they'd gotten in seemingly so short a period of time.

They soon arrived at [a flat](https://cdn.homedit.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/Lansdowne-Crescent-W11-picture.jpg) Farrier had arranged for Collins to stay in some time ago, for whenever media attention got a little too heavy for him to be at his place.  Collins learned about it from Rudy on another day when his friend had given him a lift from work and taken him to a place that belonged to neither of them. 

 _"So you can get to work on time,"_ Rudy had said to him then, by way of sheepish explanation.  _"And to avoid all the damn nosiness of the paparazzi."_

When Collins recognized where they were, he let out a small sigh.  Rudy parked the car and looked over at Collins apologetically.  Collins half-smiled.

"The reporters have camped out in front of my place again, didn't they?" he asked.

"Reporters?!  _Hah_ ," Rudy snorted, shaking his head as he moved to get out of the car.  "Let's not give them _that_ much credibility, shall we?"

Collins rolled his eyes, but rather fondly.  "Right, well...so they're all out and about, I presume?" he amended.

"Naturally," said Rudy.  "It's big news, this."

Collins sighed.  "Of course..."

They made their way inside.  Collins made his way towards the bedroom while Rudy tossed a few of his things on the couch. 

"I'm going to go wash up."

"Sure," Rudy said with a nod as Collins passed by.  "Take your time."

"Won't be too long," Collins said in response.

Once in the bathroom, with the door shut behind him, Collins heaved out a huge sigh.  Leaning with his backside against the door and his hands stacked atop each other behind him, down by his lower back, Collins stared blankly ahead for a moment before pushing off the wall with his hands and slowly shedding his layers.  He took his phone out of his pocket and laid it on top of the marble of the sink.  Once he was completely bare, Collins tentatively walked over to the large mirrors and turned around so he could survey his backside.  Nothing.  Just some redness in the area between his shoulder blades, but that was nothing unusual for Collins; it had been like that for months at this point.  Collins then turned back around and surveyed his front side.  Collins had admittedly never experienced as great a level of disappointment as he had right then.

Leaving his phone where it was atop the sink, Collins then made his way over to the tub and began to fill it.  In the din of water pounding onto the tub floor, Collins failed to hear the buzz or see his phone light up with a new text message.  In fact, Collins eventually would go straight to bed after taking his bath, and would fail to see the message until Farrier would ping him again the next morning.

 _How are you doing, dove?_   The first message read.  Then, the next one that followed would come in the wee hours of the morning, and Collins would take a moment to make sense of it in between his grogginess and his eyes attempting to adjust to the brightness of the screen's light. 

_Stay there.  I'm coming to you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg. Sorry this chapter took damn forever.
> 
> Anyway, the AU idea I mentioned in the chapter's opening author's notes that may never actually grow to be anything, depending on my time and brainpower available...LOL.
> 
> I had a random thought (while eating, as usual) of how interesting it would be if Farrier and Collins broke up over some dramatic misunderstanding and then met again later in a public place by chance, maybe even with different lovers and then simply _freezing_ , you know, and maybe even falling in love all over again. Like a grand ol' cliché. Anyway, it was just a thought. Until next chapter, friends!


End file.
